The Decision
by TodaySheWrites
Summary: Molded by the decisions of others, Draco Malfoy is finally given the chance to decide for himself- and he decides a world where Hermione Granger doesn't exist just won't do. "It's also become very clear," he whispered inching closer, "that the moment I decided to save you was the moment I decided to save myself too."
1. Labyrinth & a Secret

**Chapter Playlist:**

**_Hostage : Billie Eilish _*****the song that inspired me to start this fic***

_Whose Side Are You On : Ruelle_

_Symmetry : SYML_

_i can't breathe : Bea Miller_

_Headspace : Thomston_

_Dead Boys : Sam Fender_

* * *

There was an eerie calmness in the wake of Bellatrix's absence from the drawing room; combined with the weight of a haunting dread. Everything remained completely still; even the dust floating amongst the vast room seemed aware of the tension, settling into the air pacified, persisting above, refusing to subside.

Narcissa Malfoy stood near the large arching window, her back rigid, shoulders high with her eyes wide and focused. Her gaze settled on the pale skin of the young girl, dripping blood onto her drawing room floor. She didn't have to look across the room to her husband to know his gaze was settled upon the same sight, though the cause of tension in his shoulders had nothing to do with the concern of the dying girl before him and everything to do the ramifications of what her death meant for him and the punishment he'd receive if this was not dealt with properly— but Narcissa Malfoy was not in anyway as easily unaffected.

The beautiful woman swallowed a breath as one escaped the girl lying on the floor. Her eyes immediately glanced to her son, Draco, whose posture remained calm. His eyes remained cold and detached as they often did whilst in their home. She could sense his determination to not convey any reaction to the girl, but the moment the small breath escaped her Narcissa saw her son's jaw clench.

Narcissa noticed her husband attention was elsewhere and he had missed the small proof that she was not dead as they all imagined. She watched Draco's chest rise, his exhale trembly in its release.

The air settling around Narcissa thickened and she felt a tug in her chest, alerting her to pay closer attention to its implications. Her ability to see beyond the present had been innate in her since she was very young. Often times she knew when to do something and when not to, she could feel the importance of a moment, she could _see_ beyond based on some part of her magic that she never fully sought to explore, as it wasn't proper for a pure-blood to find interest in such magic. As a child she often wondered if she were destined to be a seer, but ridiculed relentlessly the one time she mentioned this to her sisters. Narcissa Malfoy kept this secret to herself, but she used her power as a secret manipulative weapon when necessary— and it often did prove necessary in regards to her families position in the Dark Lord's ranks.

It was in the moment she heard the young witches soft escape of breath that she felt her magic tingle the way it often did when she was being prompted to see something beyond what was right in front of her. The feeling was abounding, encompassing her magic until all she saw was the young witches face, then her son's, standing before one another. It was a gleam of an image, soft and alluring with light flowing in and around their two bodies. Her son's hands were grasping the young witches and where the blood once poured out of her it was completely vanished. The worried lines that formed on her son's face were distinctly vanished as well. The surge of energy radiating off of him warmed Narcissa in a way she only remembered feeling when he was a child. His eyes were focused on the girl and it was then that Narcissa realized where the energy was coming from… _the girl_.

There was a pause in her magic as it slowly faded back to its normal state. She could feel the vacancy of the power cause her breath to catch. She was brought back to the present moment . The shift from the light, alluring atmosphere of her brief sight beyond to the dark, damp drawing room felt like her entire had been shocked back to life.

The drastic change caused her feet to move forward until she was standing next to her son, ignoring the stern look from her husband.

Standing next to him she felt the vast contrast of energy radiating off of him now. A darker energy filled with uncertainty and fear burned behind his gaze, fueled by what she imagined was guilt.

She gently placed her hand on his forearm. Keeping her voice low for only him to hear.

"The labyrinth Draco— think of the maze garden, its vines intertwining, hedges with never-ending turns, the many hidden alcoves— place this moment there and come back to me."

She watched him focus on something beyond this room, his eyes glossing over making it appear as if smoke was swirling behind the silver orbs until the smoke settled and she gripped his fingers with her own once. This was her gift to him. Her way to protect him from all she and her husband had forced him to become.

He tucked it away.

The altered version of her son now remained. Narcissa longed to chip away the dark burdens her son carried. Her magic tingled and it made her wonder if that was why this moment felt so salient. Her eyes drifted to the young witch once more as her magic danced wildly within her chest; the sensation helping her settle the truth of what her vision needed her to see.

Draco took a step, the sound of his light footsteps dying upon the stone walls of the large drawing room, another step and another until the soles of his shoes were planted firmly in the crimson liquid surrounding the girl before him.

"We need to dispose of her— surely she's lost too much blood to survive Bella's blade by now." Lucius said venomously as he nervously wrangled his hands together, pacing the room.

Narcissa glared at her husband from beside Draco. He, too, was an altered version of his former self, though she had long come to accept this ghost-like version of her husband. She refused to accept the same for her son.

"Lucius..." She threatened. Before she could protest more her son gently touched her forearm.

"I'll see to it." Draco's voice was firm, though Narcissa noticed a twitch in his grey eyes as he stared down at the blood surrounding his black shoes.

She heard Lucius protest— "I'll have one of the house elves—"

"I trust you know the importance to not disappoint the Dark Lord again Father!"

Draco's eyes held a fury she had only seen him convey once before, when she had been suffering at the hands of the Dark Lord, in a similar state as the girl laying before them now. "We cannot simply leave such an important task to the adequacy of an elf!"

Narcissa repressed the urge to flinch at her son's tone.

Her eyes filtered across the room to where her husband stopped pacing abruptly, narrowing his eyes at his son. Months of watching him wither away slowly until the man she loved was only ever seen in glimpses. _Glimpses_— that was all she had of him now.

She would always stay devoted to him, clinging to those glimpses desperately. If Draco held her heart, then Lucius held her mind, body and soul and those were things one would never willing part with— no matter the consequences. It was difficult for her to ever express to her son, but she knew he understood her reasons for not leaving whenever he suggested it after her husband was sentenced to Azkaban.

"I'll see to it myself." Draco said, cutting into her thoughts. "You can rid our drawing room of the mess Aunt Bella left for us— surely you can handle that, can't you Father? "

Lucius swallowed his response as he glared at his son, his jaw firmly set. He nodded approvingly as Draco kneeled down, moving closer to the unconscious girl. Narcissa saw him glance up at his father and when he knew Lucius wasn't't looking, he checked the girl's pulse. The twitch of his shoulders betrayed him in that moment, as she noticed him release a breath of relief.

Draco glanced up at her to see her watching him, she held his gaze for a moment before speaking.

As she considered reminding him what consequences he may face if he chose to save her, she felt her magic pulse through her veins and stayed silent. She heard a distant voice telling her that this was not her decision to make.

She lifted her chin slightly, "I'll be sure to inform the Bellatrix that the Mudblood is dead."

Her son stood to his full height, levitating the girls body.

"Very well." He mumbled and nodded once, passing her.

She turned a second later to see him disappear completely, a glimpse of panic laced on his features.

Narcissa felt a pang of uncertainty in that moment, for she feared the choice her son just made would unknowingly be the cause of his undoing. She lifted her wand slowly, vanishing the evidence of the young witch ever being in her home—

_Until next time... Miss Granger._

* * *

_Draco shifted through the maze gardens outside his bedroom window, several vines reaching for him. He shoved his way through the leaden vines he put in place to keep others out and at his command, they slithered away and retreated upward into the hedges above. One turn to the left__—__ three to the right__— another stop he pushed into the hidden alcove and remained long enough to create the memory. Images of the maze garden, vines intertwining, tall hedges with their never-ending turns, this hidden alcove... creating a fortress within his mind keeping the truth of her there. _

With a jolt, Draco opened his eyes and they fell upon the frail body laying in the hidden compartment within his bedroom, already protected by the necessary wards to prevent anyone from finding it.

He closed the small door and with a wave of his wand the small room disappeared. The Dark Lord would be returning any moment and he didn't have time to appropriately ward off his own room. He needed to be ready. He needed his mind to be ready. He quickly scorgified his clothes and called for his house elf, instructing her to ensure Granger kept breathing.

Without another thought he made his way out of his room to wait for the Dark Lord to return.

"Draco, darling..."

His mother eyed him once, the emotion in her face quickly hardened as his father stepped pass her. He moved into the drawing room to find any trace of Potter, Weasley or Granger gone, as if nothing ever happened in this room besides afternoon tea.

Lucius stepped towards his son with an anxiousness that repulsed Draco. His father looked so timid now, feeble even.

"Is it done?"

Draco considered his options one last time. He caught his mothers knowing eyes and hurried to glance away. He didn't even flinch as he lied through his teeth and somehow, even in that moment he knew he was sealing his fate with the four words he spoke next.

"It's handled. She's dead."

It would have been difficult for Draco to simply _dispose_ _of_ Hermione Granger for more reasons he would ever willingly admit, but the most prominent of them being that— _strategically speaking_— keeping her alive was the most advantageous; hindering, of course, on whether or not Potter didn't go and get himself killed before he got around to defeating Voldemort himself. This was a rather large 'if', but the only outcome that would free him of his servitude to the Dark Lord.

He ignored the other reasons attempting to cloud his mind; reasons like— he didn't actually _want_ her dead and watching her get tortured was traumatizing enough—

No. His reasons for saving her was simple: Potter needed Granger, therefore, Draco concluded he was obligated to keep her alive. Or at least, that was the easiest for him to accept in that moment.

The memory of Albus Dumbledore's voice offering him a way out replayed in his mind attempting to slither from the hidden alcove on one of the many vines he intricately tucked away. He shut his eyes and focused his breathing. He couldn't be caught with his mind so easily accessible, especially now.

His thoughts shifted to the room he left Granger in moments ago, hoping to distract himself. The small room, the size of his closet at Hogwarts, was filled with books, journals and random things Draco had found interesting during his childhood, but was never allowed to openly enjoy.

_Probably not best to think about any of that right now either. _

He grimaced shoving the room deeper as he continued to determinedly stride down the halls of his home.

Each step echoed around him and he turned his thoughts once again, focusing on his minds labyrinth instead.

He thought back to the first time he was able to successfully conceal his thoughts. The skill came easy to him, as if his mind was destined to hide secrets and keep his true intentions for only his to dwell on. His mother had begun teaching him at a very young age, as a response to the company her husband kept, hoping her son could have secrets of his own, _or_ _perhaps_ _she_ _had_ _foreseen_ _this_, Draco thought dryly— _Oh in case you ever need to hide one of your classmates in your room and lie about her death, here's a way to hide your thoughts from the Dark Lord— _

He frowned to himself and shook his head.

To his left was a large window and he felt his feet stop and turn without thinking. The rain was pouring into the glass before him, fogging his view to his mothers hedged gardens, forcing his thoughts in another direction.

He shut his eyes and allowed the memory to play out, enjoying the distraction.

The image of him as a young child bending over one of the many journals he used to draw in during his first lessons with his mother flooded into the forefront of his mind. The memory calmed him as he remembered his mother standing next to him, peering over his shoulder with a smile on her face. She watched his hands float across the parchment and continuously reminded him how talented she thought he was.

As a child Draco found a sense of peace drawing. He would spend hours with his mother sitting in her gardens drawing as she tended to the plants and flowers. It was their time to spend away from the dark halls of their Manor and away from his father who scolded him whenever he saw him drawing, or doing anything besides what he deemed appropriate for a _young pureblood man_.

In the memory, both he and his mother were smiling. It was bright outside as they sat in the sunroom with the French doors open to reveal the tall hedges that connected to the maze garden. He remembered his mothers voice as she revealed to him a new form of Occlumency, that very few were capable to master. The very form of Occlumency that he now relied on to keep him alive.

_'Draco, I want you to draw something for me.'_

His younger self looked up at his mother, noting the seriousness in her tone. She took a step away from him and stood in front of the window, her eyes scanned the gardens for a moment before she spoke again. When she turned to face him again her eyes were focused.

_'Draco, I want you to think of a place that makes you feel safe. I want you to draw it and then we're going to practice placing your thoughts there. It will need to be a place you know well— and rather spacious. Can you do that for me? Can you think of a place you feel safe?_

His younger self seemed to struggle to think of a place he considered safe, even as a child his home was unpleasant. A moment later his small hand began to move across the page and his mother walked around the room. Several minutes passed before he was done. His younger self finally stopped and placed the charcoal down on the desk. His mother began to walk towards him.

_'You've thought of someplace safe?'_

His younger self nodded and lifted the parchment. His mother froze before taking another step closer, allowing a sharp breath of inhale between her lips. She lifted her hand quickly to rid the tear from rolling down her cheek.

'Very good Draco_— Well done.'_

His younger self didn't understand why his drawing upset his mother, but he understood now…

He opened his eyes as the buzzing of someone arriving at the Manor tingled across his skin, taring him away from the memory of his younger. The feeling lingered for several moments, letting him know there was more than one person arriving.

He took one last glance out the rain splattered window. The hedges seemed darker now, filled with more secrets than just his own.

_And now is the time to put those years of Occlumency lessons to use..._

* * *

Theodore Nott had never seen his best friend in any sort of state other than discomfort or indifference whilst sitting amongst his fellow Death Eaters, but as he observed him now he sensed something was different. Where Draco usually sat with his eyes drawn down with his shoulders firmly set, he now appeared the exact same with an additional bounce to his leg that only Theo would know to pay any attention to.

Unlike Draco, Theo was hardly worthy enough to sit at the table with the other Death Eaters. Instead he stood off to the side of the large table, next to his father though slightly skewed as to not to catch the attention of the Dark Lord when he entered. He preferred to remain irrelevant and invisible as possible.

Draco caught his eye and gave him the signal that he needed to speak with him after the meeting and to bring Blaise— the signal involved a sly motion of placing his hands discreetly on the table before him and switching his silver crest ring from his right index finger to his left.

Prior to the meeting Draco had been forced to meet with the Dark Lord alone, which had only happened one other time in his life, ending with his mother being tortured in front of him as he vowed to make up for his fathers mistakes by taking his place in his ranks; committing to training and joining the other Death Eaters on various missions to further the Dark Lord's exploits.

Unfortunately, after months of enduring such commands and adequately succeeding, he quickly gained favor in the Dark Lords circle. He played his part well enough, and soon Voldemort considered him worthy of remaining at the table and even sought his opinions on strategy, mostly concerning Potter and Company.

Needless to say, Draco hated every moment of it — especially when he sought him out to speak alone as he did before this meeting.

Draco waited in his fathers old study, which the Dark Lord claimed as his own without any concern for objections, which no one dared to make. His father never entered this room anymore, even though the Dark Lord rarely lingered in the Manor longer than necessary.

Draco noticed how the room felt darker somehow than when his father occupied its space. As a child he was never permitted to enter, so naturally he snuck in whenever he got the chance, but now... the room seemed tainted with the Dark Lord's presence and the desire to sneak into the dreary space completely gone.

The sound of a snake slithering past him caused him to adjust his posture as he waited for the ghost of a man who was predicted to follow.

If someone were in his father's old office observing the interaction, they would assume that Draco was unbothered, composed even.

He had one hand placed on the other in front of him. He bowed slightly as the Dark Lord took his place behind the grand black-oak desk, the majestic engraving detail of emerald laced within its features cast a slight sparkle of light, which Draco had once thought was mesmerizing but now, with Voldemort behind it, it reminded him more of the final tingling sparks of the killing curse dissolving into the last breath of its victim.

"Draco."

Voldemort was now seated and lifting his hand motioning for Draco to do the same.

"Bellatrix has informed me of the events from last night. As you can imagine I already expressed to her my... disssapointment. She will not be joining us for our meeting tonight." He lifted his chin slightly, and paused almost as if to ask permission, "I'd like to see it from your perspective..."

Draco knew what would come next. He didn't fight it— instead he welcomed the painful discomfort as the pressure of the Dark Lords magic penetrated through the air and entered his mind.

His magic instinctively became aware of the intruder, causing vines to violently shift, tall green hedges to shake and bend to his will until the version of the night he intended to be seen was pulled from its depths.

Draco, unknowingly to the Dark Lord, curved the vines and placed the false memory strategically deep enough for the Dark Lord to believe he wasn't hiding it, but also that he hadn't intended it to be found. The vines grew and stretched themselves out towards the other presence shifting in his mind, replaying the scene.

The feeling of another presence was sharp and forceful, but nothing Draco was not prepared for.

That moment, Draco allowed himself to internally admit after his one on one with the Dark Lord, was the moment he knew there was absolutely no going back.

Hermione Granger was now his secret to keep, his secret to protect... and he wondered what possibly made him think she was worth the trouble?


	2. Whisky & the Silent Treatment

**Chapter Playlist: **

_Secrets and Lies : Ruelle_

_When You Break : Bear's Den_

_Slip Away : UNSECRET, Ruelle_

_Hurt for Me : SYML_

_when the party's over : Billie Eilish_

_Easy (Switch Screens)[feat. LORDE] : Son Lux_

* * *

The experience of waking up in an unfamiliar place had become a something of routine for Hermione the past few months searching for Horcruxes, but this time it was different; painfully different. The moment she attempted to sit up from the ground, she began gasping for breath, instantly feeling claustrophobic as she found herself in a small room surrounded by nothing familiar at all. Her body refused to move from her horizontal position on the floor.

Only a few moments passed until she was able to control her breathing, the shock wore off and she felt every inch of her body begin to burn and ache like nothing she had ever felt before, except —

The pain triggered something in her mind, immediately reminding where she had been before she woke up in this tiny closet of a room. The memory of Bellatrix's blade slicing her skin suddenly becoming so overwhelming it was no surprise when she passed out from the amount of fear and exhaustion surging through her body.

The next time she woke up wasn't any less dreadful.

She was able to control her heart rate and rising panic, but the initial shock from waking the first time seemed to have gone and there was no numbing the pain.

It consumed her.

She begged her mind for relief. She wished she would pass out again, but it seemed that her body was demanding her to stay awake this time.

She had no sense of what was around her. She wanted to scream, but couldn't be sure if she was making any noise when she opened her mouth. She wasn't sure of much of anything besides the burning fire that coursed through her veins.

Eventually, she realized her face was damp. Tears made their way down her cheeks. Her left arm throbbed and she wondered if she could use her tears to put the fire out inside her. An irrational thought, but it crossed her mind—

Every small movement she made caused a trickle effect of scorching heat to pound through her veins.

So, instead of moving she lay there. Hours later she became aware she had no more tears left in her as she started to half dry heave, half sob completely still… forced to endure the uninterrupted pain.

* * *

"You look more shit than usual. Who should we blame for the displeasure of dealing with you in such a state?"

Theo was smirking at Draco as he entered the small study, which Draco strategically chose as it was the furthest room from where the Dark Lord held his meetings. There was a velvet divan across from a marble fireplace, no windows, and two large bookshelves. Draco couldn't remember ever entering this room until now.

"Unless, the reason for your distress is none other than our Dark Lord, then All hail his Glorious Sovereignty and curse your holy unworthiness." Theo continued with a bite of sarcasm.

"Do stop attempting to be humorous, Nott. It's unbecoming on you." Blaise Zabini said shortly after watching Draco enter the room.

Draco turned to place the necessary silencing charms on the room before speaking. He didn't trust that they were ever alone, which was quite inconvenient as it was draining, since this was his own _fucking_ home.

When he turned to face the small study he flicked his wrist, a moment later flames lit within the fireplace to his left and with another wave of his wand a glass of whisky poured itself and levitated to his empty hand. He took a sip and glanced at Theo, nodding for him to leave his standing position near the bookcase to join Blaise in front of the fire on the small sofa.

Theo did as he was instructed and watched as Draco's shoulders remaining high, making it obvious something was wrong. Blaise and Theo waited until he stopped pacing, finished his first glass and began to pour another. Once Draco finished his second he levitated two glasses to where they were sitting.

"Draco, mate... Whisky and the silence treatment?" Blaise started after grabbing the floating glass from the air. He took a sip and Draco finally stopped pacing, standing near the marble mantle above the fire. He leaned his shoulder against it and closed his eyes. As if realizing something could actually be wrong, Blaise's thoughts darkened.

"Draco... what's happened? Is it— Did Lovegood... is she?"

Draco smirked and his eyes met Blaise's. The contrast of his smirk to the heavy atmosphere made both Theo and Blaise shift uncomfortably.

"No, Blaise. Lovegood is still safely tucked away in the dungeons. He hasn't made me get rid of her... " The impending _yet_ hung in each of their minds though none of them acknowledged it.

Blaise felt the weight of the news settle his nerves slightly.

"Alright," Theo drawled lifting his own glass in the air prompting Draco to explain his heavy scowl. "We're bursting with anticipation here— has the Dark Lord decided to move in to your own chambers or did Pansy use too much teeth last night?"

Draco ignored his unwarranted accusation that he was still in a relationship with Pansy, as he had been ignoring her owls for weeks now. Blaise hid his smile behind his glass as he pulled it to his lips to take a sip.

Draco sighed, shutting his eyes. _If only his problems were so trivial._

"I need your help." He said glancing between them both. "With something... and it's— well, it very well might be the most selfish burden I have requested of either of you to help me carry yet."

"You mean more selfish than making us to steal your father's special edition Ogden's from his study during forth year and making _us_ take the blame for it?" Theo asked with a pointed look.

"You mean a heavier burden than you telling us about Pansy..." Blaise added letting them fill in the details of that summer.

Theo nodded as he lifted his shoulders in an agreeing shrug and pointed at Blaise, "Oh. Right. That... that was definitely worse, I think."

Blaise noticed Draco's shoulders tense slightly at their words and he breathed a sigh.

"Draco, mate— come on. We're only joking. We made a pact the day you took that mark, remember?" Blaise focused his stare intently on Draco, lowering his voice slightly, becoming serious. "We're in this together."

Draco dropped his shoulders slightly, the side of his mouth twitched, the word held a weight that Draco was still attempting to understand how to carry— _Together_.

Theo leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees, gazing up at Draco's worried expression, "You know we won't say no mate. So go on— tell us the task that will ensue our impending doom."

Draco inhaled once and let out a long breath, "I need your help keeping something hidden— well _someone_, rather—"

Blaise and Theo glanced at each other frowning and when they turned back to Draco, he was tilting back another glass of whisky and nodding for them to follow him.

* * *

Blaise and Theo starred at the wall where Draco had just revealed the hidden door and opened it slightly for them to look in.

"_Fuck_," Blaise breathed out as Theo muttered, "_Bloody fuck_," — which then led to several more mutterings between them as Draco waited for the realization of his request sink in.

Blaise stood, his eyes steadily growing wider, "That's Hermione _fucking_ Granger! You have Hermione _fucking_ Granger in a mysterious _secret_ room in your_ fucking_ walls —

Theo tilted his head over to Blaise, "I doubt that's her middle name—"

Blaise, turned to Theo blinking in exasperation through narrowed eyes. "Draco _fucking _ Malfoy is hiding Hermione _fucking _ Granger in his room. You two just had tea with the Dark Lord while Hermione Granger—

"Hermione _fucking_ Granger—" Theo mumbled.

"—is here, in your room!" Blaise's jaw hung open as he struggled to rationalize his reality at that moment.

Draco cleared his throat, desperately wanting to stop them from continuing. He was now realizing how tired he felt. He couldn't remember the last time he truly slept.

"For the record— you can still say no. I can obliviate you both right now and pretend you never spoke to me today."

"_This _ is what you want us to help you with?" Blaise asked, brows lifted. "What are we even supposed to do with her?"

Theo stepped forward, a smile growing on his face. "Might I suggest—"

"No, you can't—" Blaise said lifting his hand to cut him off.

Draco glanced at where Hermione was laying still, checking to see her chest rise and fall once, confirming she was still alive— a second later he waved his hand covering the hidden room once more. He glanced at his two best friends, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Theo shook his head, "Unbelievable... So, the Dark Lord and your parents believe her to be dead?"

Draco nodded, "The Dark Lord knows Potter and Weasley got away and he thinks Granger's dead. My parents just told me to 'get rid of her' and trusted me to do so. I think they thought she was already dead after what Bellatrix did to her..."

Draco didn't mention that he believed his mother knew she wasn't dead. It seemed best to keep that to himself, for now. Blaise and Theo both noticed the slight change in his tone as he said this, watching him advert his eyes to the ground.

"It was that bad?" Blaise asked.

Draco swallowed once before looking up.

"Bellatrix used a cursed knife— once it pierces the skin, the blood refuses to stop pouring out—" He shifted slightly and his eyes glanced down. "If I hadn't seen her use it before I wouldn't have known how to stop the bleeding. No one knows about the counter-curse for the knife, but Snape and I have been working on it for awhile—"

Theo frowned, noticeably looking paler, "Is she, um, does Granger need anything? Should we— I don't know—?

Draco shook his head.

"I've healed what I could, but it won't stop the effects of the prolonged torture. This is only the beginning of what the blade will do— she'll need to start the extraction process in a few weeks. For now the potions need to heal the internal injuries before the extraction process can begin. I've been sending Mink to give her the potions, but I can only summon the elf so many times before Father notices somethings off. I wouldn't have asked you two for help unless I had no other choice..."

There was a pause as each of their gazes shifted down to their feet, considering the weight of what he was saying.

Blaise hesitated and then concentrated on keeping his voice even, "That must have been, er, difficult— to make that decision."

Draco grimaced.

"If I let her die—" He shook his head again, "It just wasn't a choice."

Blaise nodded and a silence fell over the room again. Theo sighed and then stepping forward.

"Right, so what is it you need us to do?"

"Really—?" Draco asked as he lifted a brow.

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Draco, we're in. You need us, and we all know Granger is worth much more alive than she is dead— to either side."

_Strategic_.

Theo smirked and took a step towards Draco placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Precisely— _also_… I'm intrigued to see Granger's face when she realizes you saved her life—" His smirk began to slide away turning into a frown instantly. "—or did we miss that bit?"

"No, she'll most likely remain unconscious for a week or two. Someone needs to administer the potions meant to slow the effects of the curse though."

Blaise quickly cut Theo off as he opened his mouth, noticing Draco's dark circles under his eyes. "When do you leave?"

"Two nights from today. The Dark Lord requested Dolohov, McNair and I join him… following a tip from the wand-maker. That's all I know."

Blaise nodded, "Second time he's asked you instead of your father, isn't it?"

Draco nodded.

Theo glanced away, "My father told me the Dark Lord is adamant on replacing your father. Thinks he's unstable ever since what happened to your mother."

Draco shot him a look, but knew he couldn't be upset for him knowing such intimate details about their family. It wasn't like it was a secret that Voldemort had single handedly ruined any chance of normalcy in his life. His eyes glanced to where Potter's best friend lay, under his protection— a strange feeling sparked in his chest, _hope__?_ It left just as suddenly.

"I know." Draco quickly amended before letting his temper get the better of him. "That's why I need your help— with the Dark Lord recruiting me higher within his ranks I can't allow any reason for him to think I can't be trusted. I can't be certain when I'll return from this mission or any other in the time it would take to ensure she keeps breathing. The curse is extremely difficult to extract— the process could take months..."

"So... what's your plan when she starts asking questions and demanding she be let go? This is Hermione Granger after all. You can't expect she'll willingly be a prisoner."

Draco jaw twitched. He had wondered the same thing only every second since he brought her into his room.

"I'll deal with that when she wakes."

Blaise nodded.

Theo began to smile broadly, "Well, it seems to me that things just got a little more interesting at Malfoy Manor, and about time too, I might add—"

Blaise rolled his eyes, "Right, as if hosting a psychopathic Dark Lord for weekly tea and gossip isn't enough excitement for one day Theodore."

"Don't forget the torturing and murdering the innocent…" Theo added soberly.

Blaise couldn't help but sigh and shake his head knowing there was no point acknowledging his friend's pour attempt to lighten the mood.

"You two should go." Draco decided, growing tired of entertaining anyone. Meeting Blaise's gaze, "Keep me posted on the happenings with your step father in Italy— both of you meet me here on Sunday before I leave with the Dark Lord. I'll need to go over the order of potions that need to be administered. It's imperative she doesn't miss a single dose so you'll need to stress the importance to her when she wakes." _If she wakes..._

"Oh, is that all? Sounds easy enough." Theo shrugged. "Convenience the most infuriating, stubborn, _muggleborn witch_ that two Slytherin _pureblood heirs_ insist she trust us, and ask her to take some unknown potion or she'll die. I'm looking forward to it."

Blaise rolled his eyes, ignoring his friend.

"We'll handle it. Get some rest mate. You truly look terrible—"

"He's right." Theo added and winked at Draco, who was glaring at him— without another word Theo apparated leaving Blaise and Draco standing alone in his room. Neither of them said anything for a moment and Blaise was about to leave when he turned back around eyeing Draco.

"Draco…."

Draco met his concerned stare.

"Why'd you do it? Why'd you save her knowing what will happen if the Dark Lord finds out?"

Draco shifted his eyes to the floor and a moment later looked back up, lifting his shoulders once nonchalantly, but Blaise could see the uncertainty concealed in his expression.

"Tired of making the wrong choices."

If Blaise hadn't been concentrated on him he wouldn't have heard him. Blaise nodded once and glanced at where the hidden room was.

"For what it's worth," Blaise glanced back at Draco, "I think you may have finally made the right one— the hardest decisions usually are— or so I've been told."

Blaise supplied him a small smile as Draco just nodded and glanced away again.

"Right— well see you soon. Try not to die."

This got a reaction out of Draco who returned the small smile, "Come on Zabini— you know self perseveration is top among my many talents."

"'Suppose you should add reckless decision making to the list now too."

Draco smirked and Blaise reached for his wand apparated with a loud crack echoing around the room.

A beat, and then Draco was left standing alone in his room starring at where his best friends stood moments ago. His eyes traveled back to the hidden room and he waved his hand once more, revealing the room, he waved his hand again and it disappeared. He didn't even bother moving his feet to his bed, instead his knees gave and he sunk down against the wall near the hidden door. The moment he felt the floor beneath him he shut his eyes and fell asleep, focusing on the small breaths coming from the other side of the wall lulling him into unconsciousness.

* * *

Hermione sat up. She felt a tightness in her ribs, but the pain she felt the last time she awoke had been subdued. She knew the effects were due to a healing potion, she tasted the metallic from a blood replenishing option on her lips as well. Wherever she was, whoever had her trapped was keeping her alive, which would have been reassuring if she didn't recognize the small silver family crest engraved on a journal laying next to her. She hadn't recognized much of anything upon waking before due to the excessive amount of pain she was in_—_ _when was that? A day ago? Two? A week?_

She reached for the small black journal, her fingers trembling as they grazed the emblem, her mind working quickly and instantly recognizing latin words on display between two entangled dragons—

_Purity Will Always Conquer_

A shaky breath escaped her lips and she heard a small whimper follow, as warm liquid trailed down her cheek. She was still in Malfoy Manor. The sound of Bellatrix's laughter replayed in her mind. She shut her eyes firmly as a searing pain jolted through her veins, pulsing heat radiating from her forearm.

She lifted her wrist and gasped as her eyes landed on the carved bright red flesh spelling out a word so ghastly and she knew— t_his_ _word_ _carved_ _on_ _her_ _skin_ _was_ _permanent__._ The thought sent another jolt of fear through her as she tried to contain her breathing. She desperately needed to be out of this closed in space. It was too small. She couldn't breath.

The air shifted. A door appeared and whatever comfort she had felt at waking vanished, as she instantly guarded herself away— shoving backwards into the wall trying to distance herself as far away from the door as possible. It opened slowly. The light flooding in around her.

_What if it was Bellatrix? Or Voldemort? Was she going to be tortured for more information? Most likely. She needed to keep Harry safe. She wouldn't let Voldemort know his secrets. She wouldn't betray him._

She couldn't adjust her eyes quickly enough to recognize the outline of the person leaning down, until the blurriness from her tears cleared revealing pale, blonde hair accompanied by almost translucent silver eyes.

_Malfoy_...

He leaned towards the entrance to the small room, kneeling slightly, but he stopped once he was in a crouched position.

Hermione wasn't sure what was louder, her breathing or her heartbeat as it attempted to push its way through her throat, chest and ears.

"Granger."

She would recognize his voice anywhere, hearing it taunting her during their school days; back then his voice sounded almost playful in its teasing. Now, it felt darker somehow and empty of any real emotion— ill intended or otherwise, it seemed hallow.

Although he remained completely still she was terrified of what seeing him meant. _She had seen the crest of Malfoy on the journal. She knew she was still in the Manor. Had Harry and Ron been captured too? If so, why was she still alive and where were they?_

"You need to come out now."

It wasn't a demand. He seemed entirely too calm for her frantic mind to comprehend. She paused as he stood and took a step back from where he had been leaning down. She swallowed her questions, forcing herself to prepare for whatever was outside the small room she was in.

When she crawled out she was surprised to see no one but Malfoy standing several feet away with an impassive look on his face. Hermione quickly scanned the room before her. It was large— almost the size of three bedrooms, containing a fireplace a study area and a massive bed to her right. Her eyes found the door and the window almost immediately.

"It'd be unwise of you Granger," He followed her gaze and then turned to look at her. "—to attempt an escape."

She wondered how frightened she looked to him, hating that she probably appeared so weak— without a wand and struggling to stand without wincing. She pushed her shoulders back and attempted to lift her chin slightly, though every time she moved she felt the massive strain on her muscles.

"Where are Harry and Ron?"

Her throat, she noticed, was clearly effected by the torture she endured, as well as lacking any moisture. She wondered again how long she had been unconscious.

"Your guess is as good as mine." He said flatly. "No manners, those two— scampered off before mother could extend an invitation for evening tea."

She sensed it again. The hollowness in his voice.

He took a step towards her and she immediately pushed herself to the wall behind her and took a step sideways bumping into a desk. He didn't miss the twitch in her stare as she searched for a weapon, but decided to ignore it as he walked further into the room and reached for something laying on a table next to the massive bed.

"W-what are you doing?" Her more pressing question she kept to herself_—_ _What are you going to do with me?_

His long fingers wrapped around a vial and he lifted it, revealing a pink liquid and he tossed it to her. She clumsily side stepped where it would land, but as if knowing she wouldn't trust him, Draco was already lifting his wand and the vial floated, suspended in front of her.

"It's not poison Granger."

She took a step forward, inspecting the liquid without taking her eyes off of Draco on the other side of the room. She didn't recognize it's consistency. Did he really think her so foolish as to trust anything he gave her willingly? She took a step away from the liquid.

"Why am I here? What happened—" She stopped suddenly feeling the memory forcing its way forward, glancing down she noticed her hands were shaking.

Draco noticed this too and then with a wave of his hand lowered the vial on the floor before her.

"Drink it— it will calm the side effects you're experiencing from the torture."

Something spiked in her chest at how calm he remained.

"How often, I wonder, are you sent to revive your families torture victims Malfoy?"

She could feel the hateful venom slip through her teeth landing squarely to where he stood now, but he didn't even flinch. He made to turn away from her and she felt her heart spike in her chest again, this time from the thought of being left alone again— left alone to wonder what happened and what he planned to do with her.

"Wait." Her voice caught and she tried not focus on the soreness in her limbs as she took a step forward. "What do you want from me? Why am I here? Why am I—"

_"__Alive__?"_ He finished for her, not turning to look at her as the word harshly left his lips and floated over his shoulder. He reached his fingers to touch the door handle. "Keeping you alive is necessary."

He left without another word or a glance.

As the door shut firmly she felt her knees give and she was kneeling on the hard wooden floors. She didn't cry. She was sure how ever long she had been kept in that small room that she had cried every tear that was left in her body.

_Keeping you alive is necessary—_

_For whom?_ She wondered frantically.

The realization that he didn't harm her settled over her. He allowed her out of the small room and she was now allowed to roam this larger one. A room with several vast bookshelves, a roaring fire, and an oversized bed— it didn't make any sense.

She flinched as her body seemed to loose the adrenaline that came from his visit. She felt the heaviness behind her eye-lids, it wasn't painful so much as it was discomfort. Her forearm itched from where the words remained— her flesh still open, exposed. She refused to look it at. Instead she stood to her feet, gasping only once from the pain in her chest.

After trying the door handle and finding it burning her skin she searched the room.

_Once_, for weapons.

_Twice_, for any other secret rooms or ways out.

_Three times_, to categorize the texts on the books shelves and the parchment on the small desk in the study area.

By the forth time through she felt extremely weak. She slowly traced her fingers of the ivory keys of a large piano. Her eyes finally returned to the pink liquid in the small vile near the entrance to the small room. She hesitantly picked it up, noticing the small white parchment wrapped under the yarn wrapped around it. The ingredients were listed in neat hand-writing. She knew that hand-writing— _Snape_.

She quickly scanned the ingredients. It contained many similar ingredients of a healing potion, but there were other ingredients she had never heard of before. She furrowed her brow and popped the stopper off the top. She sniffed it once and thought she recognized an ingredient that wasn't listed. It took her a moment to place it before her eyes widened slightly—

"Miss must drink. Miss is hurt. Master insists Miss drink."

Hermione dropped the vial to the floor, shattering the glass at her feet.

"Oh, Miss needs more. Mink will be right back."

A 'pop' sounded. Hermione moved quickly to where the elf had been and noticed the potion scattered at her feet had been vanished. Another 'pop'.

"Miss will drink this now." Hermione took a step back as the elf lifted the potion to her once more.

The small elf was smiling up at her with wide eyes, its left ear limply hanging down and twitching upward every few moments as it waited expectantly.

"I-I'm— thank you... Mink, was it?" Hermione asked and the small elf look disappointed as it slowly lowered the potion and nodded. "I'm Hermione. Can you- are you able to leave this room. Could you help me leave it?"

"Oh, Miss can't leave."

A heaviness formed in her chest, and the feeling of her blood clogging her lungs— Hermione struggled to let the words sink.

"And why is that? Do you know what are they planning to do with me?"

The elf's eyes darted left and right, the growing panic clearly apparent on its wrinkled face.

"It's alright," Hermione coaxed, "I won't tell anyone you told me. I just— I want to know why I'm here and if my friends are alright. Harry and Ron-" Hermione said hastily, noticing the elf cowering backwards mumbling to itself about not answering questions— a thought occurred to Hermione that instant; this elf belong to Malfoy.

She knew another elf that had once belonged to him and elf's magic can—

"And Dobby— Dobby, you _must_ know him—"

"Mink mustn't answer any questions—" The elf stammered looking up at Hermione confused. "Mink must ensure Miss is still alive and drinks the potion Master brewed for her— Master brewed specifically and specially for Miss— to help her!"

Hermione held back the urge to roll her eyes. Surely, Malfoy knew she wouldn't accept any nonsense this elf was saying. She tried to think of a way to get the elf to answer her questions.

"Of course," Hermione said over the elf ramblings. "Of course, Mink— Your Master... Mal— _Draco_ is your Master, isn't he?"

The elf considered answering before nodding slowly.

"Draco wants me to drink the potion and I will. I promise. I just need you to do _one_ thing for me. Can you do that?" She could hear the desperation in her own voice. "I'll drink the potion and you will get Dobby. Dobby is a free elf now, but I know you can contact him. Tell him Hermione Granger is with your Master. Simple as that. I will drink the potion and you will get Dobby."

The elf floated the potion before her as she wrung her hands together nervously. She reached up to her folded ear that twitched upward and twirled it nervously for a moment avoiding Hermione's eyes.

"You won't be doing anything Draco told you not to. I will remain in this room. I will drink his potion. All you are doing is retrieving an old friend for me. That's all."

Hermione waited, feeling breathless at the possibility that this wouldn't work. The sound of a 'pop' echoed around the room as the elf disappeared and Hermione felt her heartbeat stop.

"No..." She breathed out, eyes scanning the place the elf had been. The potion still floating in mid air. She didn't move. She didn't want to break the small possibility that the elf would return with Dobby in tow. She shut her eyes and held her breath. _Please come back_.

The moment the elf returned, Hermione wished she had never sent her away. The look of pure horror on the small elf's now swollen face punctured something in Hermione's throat. She already knew the words before Mink said them.

"Mink can't find Dobby because... Dobby has died, Miss."

The elf's tiny voice swallowed her whole. She sunk into the helplessness, letting her grief consume her. She heard her own sobs and vaguely remembered feeling a small clammy hand on her shoulder as she cried until she was no longer awake.


	3. Hellebore & Honeywater

**Chapter Playlist:**

_My Name Is Human : Highly Suspect_

_Cold Skin : Seven Lions, Echos_

_Wave of Gray : Ruelle_

_Go Fuck Yourself : Two Feet_

_Take it From Me : KONGOS_

_Crystalised : The xx_

_Aint No Sunshine : aeseaes_

* * *

Draco felt the stiffness in his legs as he landed firmly on the stone pathway sporadically covered by dying leaves. He glanced around at the eerie hillside, the night sky expanding and stretching around him. Dark shadows hung over Hogwarts, giving the castle the appearance of death; no longer filled with excited students eager to mingle with friends or hopes to work towards whimsical childish aspirations.

He almost believed the castle _had_ died, the moment the former Headmaster did—

He pulled his eyes away from the castle and followed behind the Dark Lord, McNair, and Dolohov up the hillside until they reached their destination. He kept his gaze on their flowing black cloaks as to distract him from the purpose of their visit to the late Headmasters grave.

The silver stone that lay over the body of Dumbledore seemed to be buzzing with a hint of light magic. Draco looked over at the other two Death Eaters, unable to tell if they noticed the same magical hum. They remained perfectly still behind their masks.

Voldemort lifted his hand and the stone began to shift slowly and a moment later the buzzing seemed to stop. Draco watched as the light that filtered beneath the stone began to float into the air until it stopped just above him, hovering. If the others present noticed it they didn't seem to bother with the meaning of it. He wondered why it lingered above him as if it was going to swoop down and push its way into his soul. He felt a tugging on his chest as he admired the buzzing light, growing warmer and warmer—

The sound of the Dark Lords satisfied breathy laughter brought his attention away from the glow of light magic that vanished, lifting into night. Following its absence, a deafening cold settled over him.

"The Wand issss finally with its rightful owner."

The Dark Lord lifted the old Head Master's wand into the air. Draco noticed the a slight shift in the atmosphere now, as if all the sound had been sucked away leaving behind a loop of white noise between his ears. His eyes scanned the scene before him and his eyes fell sharply on the wand within the Dark Lord's grasp. The tingling of light magic that escaped the Headmasters tomb moments ago seemed to return in a hint of a spark, jumping from the wand and towards Draco— a twinge of heat brushed against his ribcage until it began to pulse through his veins. He tried to muffle the gasp that escaped his lips, as his wand hand twitched with the desire to reach for the wand. The light magic tingled beneath his skin, to the tips of his fingers. He glanced to the others who seemed completely oblivious to the light magic. The glanced back to the wand and the burning grew. He tore his eyes away from the wand a second later and the light faded until there was a dim lit on the tip of his finger. He wrapped his fingers into his fist as the Dark Lord summoned them to follow him.

_What the fuck was that?_

Draco was walking alone with determined strides towards the new Headmasters office. He stopped when he finally made it to the entrance where the Gargoyle nodded at him once before allowing him in. He took a step landing on the bottom stair, they began to twist until he was firmly placed within the large office.

It was empty.

He knew the Headmaster would be along soon for their weekly briefing and was thankful they hadn't planned on Occlumency lessons today.

Draco had been tasked to be a messenger of sorts, between Snape and the Dark Lord— of all the tasks Draco had been given as of late, this one — wasn't nearly as horrid and though he would never admit it, he enjoyed returning to the castle. When he had time, Snape would allow him to work in the Potions lab. It was the only time he felt truly alone.

His home was no longer occupied by Death Eaters, as the Dark Lord overtook another headquarter closer to the Ministry once he began infiltrating up their ranks. His control was growing and Malfoy Manor had turned into more of a briefing location for Death Eater updates. They would come and go as they please and the uncertainty of it all drove Draco to no longer find any sanity within his home.

In the beginning it was exciting to have so many people in his home, as it had only been him and his parents for so long, but it quickly turned into Draco dreading what he would find within the many rooms of his Manor. Several times he had witnessed the devilish nature that the Death Eaters felt inclined to set free in his home. They would disregard his mother's distaste for the type of female company they kept, encouraging her to 'loosen up' and to let her son 'be a man'. Often hosting parties for them to indulge in their disgusting need for bloodlust and torture. He knew without his abilities in Occlumency he wouldn't have survived being in the same room as them. Thoughts of his mother being forced to turn a blind eye sent a wave of fury through him.

The men he once idolized quickly became the very reason Draco understood the desire to murder someone.

The amount of times he had been forced awake by the haunting screams of their victims had caused him to rarely get any sleep at all.

The heat of uncertainty as to how long he could keep Granger safely tucked away filled his lungs briefly before he shoved that worry away once more. No one could get into his chambers, not even his mother or father. He had made sure of that. Though, every time he left her alone he wondered what he would find when he returned.

He took several steps over to the where he knew the pensive lay just behind the glass windows. He watched as the blue strands of memories floated within. He wondered how many secrets lay just beneath the surface. After several seconds of silence he shut his eyes—

He was walking through his mothers garden. The vines were shifting all around him—

_Which memory would be worth leaving behind_, he wondered? He passed a memory within the vines, upon seeing it he quickly tucked it away firmly within the roots_—_

A practiced skill he learned from when he was a child. It was reflexive now, to hide his thoughts and memories deep within the enchanted maze of hedges, vines, and rose bushes—

_But if he were to leave one behind... One memory that if stumbled upon by another unfortunate wizard years from now... they might see it and think highly of Draco Malfoy—_

He scoffed a sigh of disbelief— opening his eyes again.

He didn't have such memories to share. His choices have always simply been the bidding of others; never his own. Any memory he left behind would prove to the future generations of what everyone else thought of him—

_How often, I wonder, are you sent to revive your families torture victims Malfoy? _

Granger's words earlier struck him like a stab between his ribs. He grimaced.

He felt his shoulders twitch as he realized he was no longer alone in the room. He turned to see long black robes sweeping around the tall figure as he made his way to the desk in the center of the room.

"Have you finished the last batch of potions? Inventory will be accounted for this evening."

Draco nodded, abruptly shoving the words of Granger behind a vine deep within the maze.

"I've seen to the inventory, as well as cleared the potion closet of any speculative ingredients. When the Carrows report back to the Dark Lord all will appear as it should."

Snape didn't meet Draco's gaze as he slowly shifted through the parchment across his desk.

"The Syrup of Hellebore was low upon my last visit to the potion closet... As was the last of the honeywater."

Draco remained silent for a beat. He knew better than to try and lie too Snape.

"It's use was necessary I'm afraid. I'll be sure to have Mink send some from our private storage."

"I see..." Snape drawled, still looking down at his desk before lifting his black eyes to stare directly at Draco with one brow lifted. "And what of the happenings at Malfoy Manor? Everything still... as it should be?"

Draco shifted slightly from one foot to the other, noticing this, Snape narrowed his eyes to study Draco's discomfort.

"Everything is as it should be." Draco repeated, hoping Snape didn't notice the tight grip of his fists within his pockets or the dryness to his throat as he swallowed.

Snape watched him a moment longer. When his eyes remained on him too long, Draco noticed over the years, the thoughts that weighed heavy within the vines and roots seemed to crawl forward... it took all of his Occlumency talents to keep them deep under the ground of the gardens of his mind.

"Very well." Snape clipped and the vines crawled back into the maze. "That will be all, Draco."

Draco nodded once and spun on his heel, quick to leave his presence.

* * *

Hermione waited for the small elf to return. After six hours, she wondered if she should try and get some sleep. She wouldn't be able to fight or try to escape if she was physically exhausted. She worked through several plans as she attempted to stay alert. Plans of stealing Malfoy's wand— plans of tricking the house elf— plans of burning down the door with the fire roaring in front of her. The last one had several holes in its efficiency or effectiveness, as she couldn't be certain who resided in Malfoy Manor, but she assumed— unless it was a house elf— they most likely wanted her dead.

She felt her eyelids begin to fall without her command and stood abruptly. She didn't want to sleep. She couldn't.

She moved to the bookcase and pulled several books and tucked them under her arm. She found a small alcove in the wall furthest away from the door, directly under one of the large arching windows. Between reading and keeping her eyes on the door, she felt waves of pain that were quickly becoming more difficult to ignore.

_Stay_ _awake__. __Stay _ _alert—_

The feeling of her lungs being slowly sliced open caused her to breath in spurts. She remembered reading of how painful the lingering effects of torture could be, but reading it and experiencing it were two entirely different scenarios; the latter being immensely more devastating to her ability to remain conscious.

_Find _ _a _ _way _ _out__. __Find_ _Harry _ _and _ _Ron—_

As if a knife had slowly dug it's way into her ribcage and begun to slice up, down, back and forth slowly, smooth drawn out lines perfectly crafted to apply the perfect amount of pressure to drive her to insanity...

_Stay _ _awake__. __Stay_ _alert—_

The formerly torn flesh on her arm was buzzing with the desire to reopen and spill her blood, but it felt like something was shoving it back in place. The combination of push and pull like two magnets determined to rip her skin apart.

_Stay_ _awake—_

_Alert__._

The pain was met with a jolt of heat, and the silky smooth voice ringing between her ears... Draco's voice.

_Keeping you alive is necessary—_

_Way _ _out__. __Harry__. __Ron—_

The words on the pages beneath her began to blur as tears filled her eyes.

_Harry__. __Ron—_

This pain was unlike anything she had ever felt. Bubbling beneath the surface of her skin was cold dagger forcing its way through her skin. She thought she heard herself scream... then she heard nothing, saw blurred images as she drifted in and out of reality, but she felt something, something cold?

_Stay _ _awake__._

_Harry—_

A blur of blonde hair.

Cold hands on her throat.

She struggled to move and then her body was being lifted.

Warm arms wrapped around her.

Soft breaths, mumbling... _something__?_

Mink was floating above her head. _Odd__._

She felt something cold on her lips and then the heat of liquid fill her throat.

_No__._

Someone were forcing her to drink the potion.

_No__. __No__. __No__. __Don__'__t__— _

_Stop—_

She stopped moving. She felt her limbs fall limply and she knew she no longer had control over her body. That's when she realized what the strange ingredients were... the ones she smelt and knew they didn't belong—

_Hellbore and Honey-water__—_

She wasn't sure if the words came out like a whisper or a scream, or if they came out at all. The only thing she was sure of now was that she couldn't move. Her hands, her head, her mouth all remained still. Though her body lay limp, her mind was humming with the properties of the ingredients and what they would do when combined with ingredients of a healing potion.

Her eyes blurred in and out of focus. She saw blonde hair once more, oddly out of place, which was unusual she mentally observed through the grogginess.

Cold hands touched her skin reminding her that she was laying completely defenseless next to Draco Malfoy. Panic felt like the proper reaction, but she was unable to react at all. He could do anything he wanted with her. She found his grey eyes scanning her body and just as quickly she saw nothing— his eyes were concentrated and she hated not being able to see what he was doing.

She lay there in darkness. The potion was now heating it's way through her body, the magnetic push and pull all but ceasing...

And then she felt— relaxed.

The itching feeling on her forearm was still present, but the pain throbbing in her head and the dagger-like force beneath her ribcage had subsided, leaving behind a dull numbing sensation.

She began to worry about the ingredients again and the presence of Draco, but just as soon as she did she felt her consciousness sway; exhaustion winning over her rational instincts to stay awake.

* * *

Blurry images danced behind her eyelids.

She heard voices.

Harry and Ron's voices, _but _ _they _ _were _ _in_ _Malfoy__'__s_ _room__?_

She still couldn't move.

"Wow, Draco wasn't kidding. She looks awful."

Hermione frowned.

Ron would never call Malfoy by his first name.

_Something_ _was _ _wrong__. __They_ _shouldn__'__t _ _be_ _here__. __Why _ _couldn__'__t_ _she_ _speak__?_

"How do you imagine you'd look while recovering from the blade of Her Lordess of Darkness, Nott?" Harry deadpanned.

"Lordess of Darkness? Really?"

"Her Royal Darkness? No. That's worse."

"Definitely worse."

Hermione tried to concentrate. _Harry had just called Ron— Nott.. and they were in Malfoy's room. _

_Nothing made sense. _

"It's been nearly two weeks. You'd think she would at least gain back her color."

"Well— the potion at least seems to be working. She's not twitching like a mad woman any longer. So there's that."

"I quite preferred her in that state." Harry stated smugly. "It was terribly entertaining to watch you try and wrangle her wailing arms and get smacked in the face."

Ron scoffed.

_Two weeks. _

Hermione's mind was able to latch on to a few things their strange conversation was revealing to her.

_She had been recovering for two weeks? If the potion was healing her then why couldn't she move? Why were Harry and Ron so calmly tending to her in Malfoy's room? She was still alive. Why were they still in the Manor? They were supposed to be somewhere— Weren't they? They were... doing something— searching for something—_

"Wait," Ron said coming closer. "Was that— Did she just say something?"

"Dunno," Harry said and moving closer. She felt her eyelids flutter. "She's waking up again."

Ron jumped back.

"Scared she'll smack you again?" Harry smirked over at Ron— except it wasn't Harry smirking at Ron at all—

Her eyes adjusted to the room around her and two set of eyes were watching her from a few feet away. The voices of Harry and Ron were coming from—

"Zabini—" Her voice croaked, as she tried to piece together what was happening to her body while also discovering Harry and Ron were not, in fact, in Malfoy's room. "Nott?"

It registered to her now_—_ _Nott... Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini. That made slightly more sense... but— S_he tensed from the pain shooting through her as she tried to pull herself up._ Where was Malfoy?_—

"Take it slow Granger." Blaise was saying, his voice no longer sounding like Harry's but his own.

She settled her eyes on his and noticed they looked concerned. She flinched away as he reached towards her. He lifted his hands back.

"It's alright. We're not here to hurt you, but the potion takes a moment of adjusting. You need to get used to using your body strength again. If you move too quickly you'll just hurt yourself."

"Yeah," Theo, _not_ _Ron_, was adding with less care in his tone. "Being stubborn right now will only leave you in a pile on the floor."

Hermione furrowed her brow, piecing everything together. She didn't feel her heart racing any longer. It was slowly thumping in her chest— with every slow beat another question formed in her mind. As if sensing this Blaise took a tentative step towards her, lifting a glass of water for her to drink. She eyed it speculatively.

"If we wanted you dead Granger, don't you think you'd be somewhere other than in a nice cozy bed being nursed back to health?" Blaise lifted a brow and extended the glass of water to her. She slowly took it from him.

"Why?" She felt the words leave her lips and how harshly it cut her throat to speak. She took sip of the water, suddenly filled with relief and finished the entire glass.

"You'll need to be more specific Granger." Theo said and moved to hop on the bed next to her. She shifted slightly away.

She remembered both of them from school, but seeing them out of uniform and in Malfoy Manor did nothing to help her trust them. She examined them both and tried not to show any sign of weakness though she knew how exposed she was laying in this bed. Though, like Blaise said, if they wanted her dead she would be. Her eyes scanned both of their arms—

"Not popular enough for the cool kids club, unfortunately —" Theo pouted and then smirked at seeing her tense as he pulled up his sleeve further, exposing his bare skin. _No Dark Mark._ "Or fortunately rather— depends on who you ask, I suppose."

She nodded and suddenly wondered what her forearm looked like now. She glanced down and saw it was now covered. She was in different clothes as well. Her cheeks flushed pink.

"Mink did the changing, don't worry." Blaise assured her, watching her closely. "Draco did his best to cover the open flesh where his Aunt, um, well you know…"

She tensed at hearing Draco's name and she noticed Blaise shifted uncomfortably at mentioning what Bellatrix did to her... _odd__._

"He did what he could to ensure it wouldn't scar, but..."

She nodded knowing the moment she saw it that it would be there forever, magically enchanted knife or not, the cut was too deep not to scar. She lifted her eyes to both of theirs.

"Why are you helping me?" She asked, trying to keep her voice even.

Theo's sharp laughter made her flinch. Blaise shot him a look and then met her stare.

"Draco asked us to." He said simply.

"What does he want from me?" She asked him sharply now. "Who else knows I'm here?"

When neither of them answered she continued to feel the heat in her mind burn.

"Why keep me here? Why not just kill me— turn me over You-Know-Who or whatever he has planned? If he isn't planning to turn me over then I can't stay here— I'm supposed to be—"

Theo shrugged, "Look Granger, you'll have to ask him all those questions. We're just here to check in on you— make sure you don't, you know, _die_."

Hermione glared at him.

"Well, why isn't he here then?"

"Can't tell you that— confidential Death Eater business I'm afraid— but, he'll return soon. Until then just take it easy and—"

"Take it _e asy_?!" Hermione cut in before Theo could finish. "_TAKE_ _IT_ _EASY__?_"

She could feel her limbs tingling now, her strength slowly returning. The potion had stopped the pain and she was slowly remembering all the plans she made to escape before passing out all those days ago— she flinched internally at the thought of what Harry and Ron were going through without her and suddenly felt overwhelmed with grief.

"I WILL DO NO SUCH THING!" She shouted. "I WANT ANSWERS AND I WANT TO LEAVE!"

"Granger, look—" Blaise attempted to say, but she shifted further up the bed until she was completely sitting up.

She felt the blood rush from her head, causing white spots where Blaise was and his body slightly merging into Theo's for a moment, but she didn't stop. She pushed the drowsiness aside and inhaled deeply, hoping to gain enough oxygen to gain her composure.

"I WON'T JUST SIT HERE AND WAIT! IF YOU TWO AREN'T DEATH EATERS THEN WHY THE HELL SHOULD EITHER OF YOU CARE WHAT HAPPENS TO ME? LET ME GO!"

"We can't do that." Blaise said firmly.

"WHY THE HELL NOT?"

"If we let you go then Draco—"

"MALFOY?!" She felt the burning behind her eyelids as her vision blurred. "MALFOY SAT BY AND WATCHED AS HIS AUNT CUT INTO ME! MALFOY LET HER TORTURE ME— HE MAY HAVE SOWED UP A LOUSY CUT ON MY ARM BUT HE OF ALL PEOPLE WOULD NEVER HELP ME IF IT DIDN'T SUIT SOME AGENDA—"

Hermione could feel her heartbeat loudly against the inside of her ears. Theo quickly stood.

"Draco saved your _fucking_ life!"

The words cut through her. A cold chill shivered from her rattling teeth down to her toes.

"Catch up Granger! Draco risked _everything_ to save you. So before you start cursing him for ever existing think about that. He didn't have to. He was expected to 'get rid of you'— He was supposed to _kill_ _you__!_ You are alive because he _saved_ _you__!_ Do you know what will happen to him if anyone else finds out? Not only will you be endlessly tortured, but the Dark Lord will most likely force Draco to watch him kill both of his parents and _you_ before he finally allows him the mercy to follow after!"

Theo was shaking his head and he took a step back, dropping his eyes from hers.

Hermione felt the lump fall from her throat to the pit of her stomach. She glanced at Blaise who kept his eyes down, focused somewhere on the floor. The blurred spots were no longer from being light headed, she knew there was liquid forming on her eyelids— frustrated from being separated from Harry and Ron— even more frustrated that Malfoy did what he did and she had no understanding of what caused him to do so— _first, he doesn't identify Harry knowing bloody well who they were and then he risks his life to keep her alive—_

She swallowed and heard her own voice slip out of her mouth hardly above a whisper, "I don't understand _why_—"

"Does it really matter?" Theo said, clearly done with talking to her. He tossed something on the bed.

She noticed it was a collection of vials tied together, mixtures of purple with silver swirling within and others she recognized as normal healing potions, blood replenishing potions, numbing potions, etc.

"Be sure to drink one of each twice a day to slow the curse. Mink will ensure food arrives around midnight until Draco returns."

With that, Theo turned to leave. She heard the loud apparition sound 'pop' and felt her heart kick from the inside as his words sunk in. Her thoughts became frantic. _There_ _was_ _a _ _curse_ _still_ _inside _ _her? _

It was hard for her to breath suddenly.

"Look," Blaise said forcing her away from that thought. He stiffly nodded to where Theo was just standing. "Don't mind him. He's protective of Draco is all, but I should really be going too. One of us will be back soon enough."

Hermione nodded. Her eyes focused on the emerald blanket laying over her.

"Can you just— Can you just answer one question? Please?" She heard herself ask, though her voice sounded shakier then she would like. She met his stare and he hesitated before nodding. "Harry and Ron— Are they—" She inhaled slowly unable to finish the question.

Blaise swallowed and then nodded, "Draco said they escaped. I think tried to save you, but Bellatrix—" He paused, avoiding her stare and exhaled. "Well, I wasn't there."

Hermione nodded. Her heart swelled with the thought that Harry and Ron were safe— at least they had escaped.

She nodded again, feeling a tear fall from the motion and land on the back of her hand. She inhaled a shaky breath and forced a smile as she met Blaise's uncomfortable stare.

"Thank you." She breathed out and he didn't move. She watched as he glanced towards the door and then back at her.

"You don't have to trust us, but—"

She waited. Blaise met her eyes and she saw the flicker of something behind them— remorse, guilt? He paused as if thinking better of speaking.

"It's ok. I-I think I understand..." She said finally. There was clearly something he wanted to say but couldn't. "I-I am grateful. Harry and Ron are safe and I'm still alive. Things could be worse."

Blaise watcher her. She didn't drop her gaze as she tried to read him. He was different from Theo, or Malfoy. There was no anger or contempt as he looked at her. She couldn't help but wonder what he was about to say.

"Right," he moved to leave and sent her a half-hearted smirk eyeing the collection of potions next to her. "Twice a day. Midnight food will come."

"Midnight." She repeated and then a thought occurred to her.

_Mink__, __Malfoy__, __Zabini _ _and _ _Nott__. __Those _ _were _ _the _ _only_ _people__, __well_ _and _ _creature__, __that _ _knew_ _she_ _was _ _in _ _this _ _room__. __Malfoy _ _had _ _lied_ _to __his _ _Aunt _ _and _ _told_ _her _ _that _ _she _ _was _ _dead _ _and _ _now _ _he_ _was _ _keeping _ _her _ _alive—_

Blaise stopped and glanced at her, she wondered why he would be risking his life protecting her too— for Malfoy surely. She had never known Malfoy had such devoted friends. If the Dark Lord did find out that Malfoy saved her life and kept her in his room then it would be only a matter of time before he found that the two of them were helping him.

"So no one will notice the extra meal being prepared..." She wondered aloud. She saw Blaise smirk.

"I see you're still as clever as you were at Hogwarts," He mumbled before taking another step backwards. His face became serious as he gripped his wand at his side. "For what it's worth Granger, I'm glad Draco didn't let you die— it was reckless, of course, but that's worked out for Potter so far— right?"

He winked once before taking another step to leave and the loud 'pop' echoed around in her thoughts as she replayed everything that was just revealed to her. One thought louder than all the others—

_Draco _ _Malfoy _ _had_ _saved __her _ _life__._


	4. Journals & Warmpgrindles

Three nights passed since the first time Blaise and Theo had visited her. They both stopped in to check on her for brief time periods. Their conversations were short and lacking any valuable information Hermione could use to escape, but she was grateful for the company. They never stayed long as they had to return to Hogwarts without anyone realizing their absence. Blaise answered most of her questions, while Theo often left after he saw she drank the potion.

During Blaise's second visit he spent the first ten minutes explaining his families ties to Italy and how he often travels to visit his step father. He seemed determined to distract her from asking too many questions and genuinely wanted to help her pass the time.

"My step father supplies Draco with some of the rare ingredients for that potion."

He nodded to the vial in her hand and she glanced up at him.

"Your step father is a Potioneer?"

Blaise smirked, avoided her eyes as he shrugged, "One could say that. My step father's has a lot of hobbies."

Hermione wondered how difficult it was to make the potion that she was drinking and she was equally interested in how it was curing her— or if it even was— for all she knew they could be slowly poisoning her. She glanced up at Blaise who was watching her with a half smirk. He had been perfectly civil for the most part, but she wondered how much information he would be willing to tell her. She cleared her throat and placed the vial to the side.

"So… how does the curse work anyway?" Hermione asked.

Blaise smirked, "I was wondering when you would get around to asking that."

She glanced down at her hands as he sighed, his brows pulled together as he tried to explain it to her.

"Honestly— I'm not entirely sure, but Draco figured you would ask and he told me to tell you the process is like the muggle version of extracting a virus from the bloodstream, except its a curse and therefore a thousand times more difficult to do. The potion has to repair the internal damage and then the extraction process— which I have no clue what is entailed— will begin."

The word _extraction_ made her shiver, but something else he said made her stare at him wide eyed.

"Draco Malfoy knows about muggle viruses?"

Blaise shrugged, "I tend to not ask Draco what he does in his spare time. I'm certain I'll learn things about him that I won't be able to _unlearn_, you know?"

Hermione couldn't help but smile slightly and Blaise stayed a few minutes more to tell her about Hogwarts, avoiding any names in specific. She didn't need another reason to remind her how eager she was to get out of this room. On his third visit Hermione learned that Draco was sent on another mission, but he didn't tell her anymore than that. Theo came by that night and lingered a bit longer than he usually did.

She watched him pace slowly in front of the piano across the room to her left. He seemed fidgety— between paces he would stop and finger the ivory keys once, before returning to his pacing. Though she observed Theodore Nott was high strung a hundred percent of the times he visited, he seemed a bit more unhinged than usual.

"Um, Nott…" She said walking slowly over to him. She wrapped her arms around herself nervously.

He turned sharply at her voice and she stopped in her tracks.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione asked timidly, "You seem… more anxious than usual."

He scoffed at her and the side of his mouth twitched into a smirk.

"No, Granger, this is just how my face looks all the time."

"Alright then." She mumbled under her breath turning around trying to hide her aggravation towards him. She heard him huff in frustration and she turned around to see him sitting on the piano bench with his face hurried in his hands, knees bouncing with a rapid urgency.

"Nott, maybe if you just tell me what's bothering you I can—" she paused knowing she could very well do nothing, "I don't know… help you work through it?"

He glanced up at her and shook his head, breathing a small laugh.

"You want to help me? What, like a therapy session?"

She shrugged, her hand lifting to motion around the room. "I've got nothing better to do."

"Well…" He sighed. "'Suppose it doesn't bloody matter if I tell you seeing as everyone believes you're dead."

Theo stood moving to the bed sitting at the edge next to her. She tensed slightly, but didn't pull away. She knew Theo was closer to Malfoy and if anyone would give her insight into what was happening out in the Wizarding world it would be him. While Malfoy seemed to trust Blaise, Theo was linked to the Death-Eaters through his father; which Hermione observed seem to provide Malfoy and Theo a deeper connection, at-least that was how it was perceived from her short interactions with each of the wizards. It was difficult to make sense of much of anything with such sporadic interactions.

"My father was summoned a few hours ago— to join the others. I'm—" He paused glancing away from her and down at his hands. "I'm pretty sure it's because they needed reinforcements. The Dark Lord only summons my father for the low key taks, you know…"

When Hermione shook her head he sighed.

"Right… you wouldn't would you? Well, my father is hardly good for anything other than his status, his connections to powerful people. The Dark Lord knows he's worthless on the battlefield."

"Battlefield?" Hermione's heart began to race.

"You are aware there is a war going on outside of this room?"

She glared at him, holding back her anger. It would only make him stop talking if she started shouting at him. This was the first time either of them had mentioned anything regarding the happenings of the Death Eaters. Any detail would help her when she got out— _if she got out._

"Fine. So… you're worried about your father then?"

"What? No." Theo looked repulsed. He stood from the bed and began pacing again. "I'm fucking terrified that Draco might— He's—"

He stopped suddenly and stared right at her as if remembering who he was talking to.

"Nevermind…" He moved to grab his cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"Wait—" She stood. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go. It's going to be difficult for me or Blaise to check in this week. The Carrows have begun nightly rounds to ensure the students remain in their common rooms thanks to one of your idiot Gryffindor friends. Anyway... You've plenty of doses to get you through the week so if we don't come just keep on schedule."

There was a glaring question hanging in the air between them as he stared at her— _What happened to her if something does happen to Malfoy? _

"Try not to die, yeah?"

With that he spun away and she was left alone again.

Food continued to arrive at midnight and by the second night without a visitor she was starting to become anxious for someone to return.

Maybe someone found out that he was hiding her here. Surely, keeping her in his own room was either brilliantly planned or a last resort, hiding in plain sight had often been the cause for death many in the past.

She shook that thought knowing if she focused on all that could go wrong she would loose her focus on what mattered. If Hermione Granger was good at anything it was prioritizing her time, especially when it came to life or death situations. She only allowed herself one full hour to agonize all that was happening while she was kept locked inside Malfoy's room— A thousand different scenarios played in her mind; many of them resulting in Harry and Ron attempting to rescue her and getting captured in the process. Then on the other end of the spectrum— they believed her to be dead— that's when the hour ended and she decided she needed to distract herself immediately.

She found several texts within Draco's bookshelves and started devouring them one by one. By day two she had already found the hidden compartment within the small room she was previously kept in. It was overflowing with books and journals, some academic and some personal, all of them equally worn in just as her books always looked. She found herself smiling at the thought of a younger Malfoy cramming himself in the small space to devour certain subjects his father would disapprove of— she found approximately three muggle novels and was equally as impressed that they seemed to be read several times over. The image unsettled her slightly as it made her wonder what else he could be hiding.

At midnight, her food arrived as scheduled. She ate quietly as she shifted through the journals, books, and notes— each one introducing a new perspective on Draco Malfoy that she was sure not even his own mother knew. She felt guilty at first for invading some grey area of his privacy, but her curiosity won out in the end, as it often did— and that's how she found herself on the third night surrounded by journals and books opened for her reading pleasure.

He had several texts on Occlumency, Potions, and Arithmancy— each of them containing detailed and finely written notes in the margins, with scattered parchment scribbled with notes placed within.

She read over them vigorously, amazed at the amount of information she learned from his subtle insight. Books she had become so familiar with after hours of laboring in the library now felt brand new— after reading his instructional texts laced with his own thoughts and interpretations on the academic procedures she felt shamefully enlightened— of course she knew Draco was clever— he was always second to her in every subject, but she certainly never knew he was this dedicated. The superior, effortless exterior he seemed to showcase suddenly seemed shattered in her mind.

It wasn't until she opened the first page of one of the black journals with his delicately, distinct handwriting that she truly felt guilty as they were not academic at all, but personal journal entries— Hermione had his inner thoughts and secrets at her fingertips. She felt her heart lurch into her throat as she slowly turned the first page, revealing his name in fine cursive. She shut it quickly.

She felt her heart race as she imagined what type of information she could find within the pages of these small journals, but even here practically as a prisoner— wouldn't this cross a line of privacy that she wouldn't be able to come back from?

She starred at the black journal for several moments, considering what would happen if she opened it.

_Oh, why the hell not?_

Her fingers quickly opened to the first page and she forced her heartbeat to slow down so she could focus her attention on what she was seeing.

She furrowed her brow in confusion.

There were no words for her to devour— only drawings; beautifully detailed illustrations of a skilled delicacy and distinction, sketches of shadowing figures and—

Hermione felt her heart flutter as she traced the outline of each illustration telling a clear story that if not stumbled upon, would never be told.

Upon the first page was a portrait of a beautiful woman standing near a window. The very detail of her lifted brow above her piercing eyes as they looked out at a landscape in the distance caused Hermione to catch her breath. She quickly flipped to the next page.

It revealed the same woman, except form an entirely different perspective of looking over her shoulder as her regal gaze fell upon the landscape out the window; showing a beautifully luscious garden with an intricate hedged maze at its center— She flipped to the next page.

The woman was no longer in the drawing. Instead, it revealed the detailed curving and edges of a pathway that led into the tall hedge maze. Even in the illustration, Hermione could feel the vastness of it, like it was reaching out to her and pulling her near— hoping to encompass her within, to never find a way out.

A strange tug on her chest caused her to quickly flip from that image. She heard herself gasp as her eyes scanned another drawing. It was the room of requirements. There was a large, looming black wooden cabinet and as she flipped the next page, the image remained the same save for a small blue bird. It floated across the page until it lay in the cabinet and then the tiny bird was laying lifeless within the cabinet. As she turned the next page she felt the strange tug on her chest again— like something was pulling her towards the page. The feeling— it reminded her of something…

She felt her breathing quicken and something inside her made her close the journal with a jolt. The image of Slytherin's locket flashed in her mind. The same feeling of dark magic in the locket was laced within these pages—

She pushed herself to her knees and quickly began to gather the texts, notes, and journals and placing them back within the small room. She felt the guilt weigh heavily on her from taking a look into the intricacies that were Draco Malfoy. The pounding of her heartbeat thumped in her ears as she steadied herself on the wall her eyes scanned the room. There was no evidence of her snooping, but she felt it on her skin like the dirt that clung to her from her time on the run.

She couldn't stop thinking about the beautiful illustrations, Malfoy's own drawings that revealed a piece of what was inside his mind. Did anyone else know he could draw with an accuracy so precise it felt tangible— alluring? Perhaps that was only the dark magic placed upon it—

_Dark magic placed on a diary? _

She shoved herself away from the wall and began pacing back and forth near the fire. It was almost two in the morning now.

_No—_ she quickly amended. It certainly wasn't a Horcrux, but there was definitely some type of dark magic placed upon his journals— to protect others from seeing them, maybe? Or they were used to recount memories? The images seemed so— _real…_

Reading through his texts revealed other truths that she found useful— for one, Draco was clearly a skilled Occlumens. That information was apparent from his additional scribbles in the margins of the texts. She noticed the dates of several notes taken dating back to seven years ago. If he had been practicing since then, well he was clearly able to hide information— how else would he be able to lie to Voldemort about what he did with her?

She wondered if the journals were a way of conjuring the thoughts he wanted to conceal. She read about certain practices in Occlumency while she was researching for Harry once he became aware of his connection to Voldemort.

Hermione was fascinated with the depths of what magic could do with memories and thoughts if one diligently practiced. For the most skilled wizards they would learn to shield their mind by developing a concentrated process. The only example she could remember now was one recorded by a witch from Russia—

During the early 18th century parts of Russia forced witches to have children and marry by the age of twelve to ensure the magical gene remained in their country. The Russian woman wrote of the practices she kept her little sister a secret— planting a false memory of her death as to not have her sister forced into marriage and pregnancy.

Hermione could hardly remember all the details, but she knew the woman painted her memories and from the canvas she could arrange them however she wanted— so that if anyone ever attempted to enter her mind they would see false memories she twisted to keep her sister safe.

Hermione tried to remember the name of the woman who wrote about her interesting process, but couldn't. The only reason it resonated with her then was because she desperately wanted to ask Snape a question regarding the other ways one could potentially keep memories safe without keeping them in one's mind— but she never got the chance. Not to mention the book she found the Russian woman's account of her story was found in the Restricted Section. Not for the first time Hermione wondered why they had the section at all, if not to entice the more dedicated and curious students...

The realization that Malfoy could possibly be that skilled in Occlumency sent a bolt of electricity through her. She began sorting through the possibile ways she could use this information to her advantage from within these four walls— all of which hindered on his intentions with keeping her here. If he could keep secrets from Voldemort then maybe he could help her get a message to Harry and Ron. But would he? Did he even want to help them or was he simply keeping her safe out of guilt, or possibly it was more strategic for him to keep her alive and he was just waiting for his moment to use her as leverage?

She didn't let that thought sink in for too long before shifting her focus in another direction.

Potions. He could obviously invent and improve upon complex potions. He couldn't be doing that alone. _Unless_, he was far more practiced and skilled than she had never cared to notice. She tried to remember what his skill level had been during their potions class. She could vaguely remember him doing much of anything during their 6th year. He seemed so distant and a hallow shell of himself. He hardly bothered to even scowl at her whenever they made eye contact. It felt like a million years ago and their last year at Hogwarts was strained to say the least—

A loud 'pop' came from behind her across the large room and she stopped, aware that she was wearing nothing more than a thin white nightdress Mink had given to her after explaining that Mink destroyed her clothes as she thought them unsuitable for a guest of Malfoy Manor. Hermione tried not to be too upset, but the nightdress was hardly practical.

She wrapped her arms tightly around herself standing completely still. She felt the warmth from the fire dancing behind her and the dimly lit room cast her shadow in front of her a few feet to where Malfoy was now standing— well, swaying— he looked pale and—

She watched as he fell abruptly, his head landing with a loud thunk on the wooden floor. Instinct took over logic, as she rushed to his side and hurried to shove his Death Eater robes open.

She gasped in shock as her eyes swept over him and the amount of blood seeping through his shirt that was cut open across his chest. Malfoy was attempting to say something, but started coughing up blood instead and Hermione felt the heat of it splatter on her white gown.

Ignoring her shaking hands she was quick to grab the several vials of potions from the nightstand and hurried back to Draco, who was now shaking as if the room was a thousand degrees below zero. She knelt down, turning his head sideways so he wouldn't choke on his blood.

She grabbed two vials shaking them once before mixing them in the cup Mink left behind for her. She called for the elf, hoping she could summon it. She struggled to remain calm and not think what him showing up here covered in blood meant—

"Hold on," she whispered determinedly as she created what she hoped would be a sufficient combination of a blood replenishing potion and healing potion.

He wasn't shaking anymore. His eyes fluttered to hers and she felt her heart stop as she looked into them. She had never been this close to him before and her hand was pressing firmly, intimately to the nape of his neck, the other pressed on the wound attempting to keep the blood from pouring out.

"It's going to be alright." She heard her voice say, more evenly than she felt. "Drink this."

Draco shifted slightly, wincing in pain as he pulled himself to his elbow. He swallowed the potions and slowly dropped his head back down, twitching every few seconds.

Hermione watched helplessly. She began to pull his robes back to reveal his entire body, checking for any other damage. The only harm seemed to be coming from the cut along the top of his chest, beginning near his collar bone and ending somewhere under his shirt.

Without thinking, she reached to tear the shirt away to examine the damage fully— she felt a firm grasp on her wrist yank her forward. She looked down to see Draco snarling up at her, his eyes were the same color as ice and the contrast of blood across his lips reminded her how frightened she should be.

_He was a Death Eater. She was his prisoner. No matter his reasons for saving her, he still held the power to kill her if he wanted._

Her chest tightened as his nails dug into her skin. The amount of hatred fuming from him made her temporarily numb, as if one wrong move would remind him that she should be dead.

_Was he being punished for saving her? Did Voldemort know?_

Her eyes glanced to where his other hand lay near his head— his wand laying limply in his fingertips. Her eyes moved back to his. Her thoughts distracted her enough to miss the subtle action of him snapping his fingers and a soft 'pop' sounded across the room.

"Master is hurt!"

The small elf's voice helped Hermione escape his grasp as he fought back choking once more. She scattered backwards and lifted herself off the ground. She grabbed the back of one of the wing back chairs in front of the fire and tried to control her panicked breaths.

Mink healed the large gash across his chest and lifted another potion to his lips. The elf was crying the entire time, but it took her no time to heal Draco completely.

Hermione wasn't sure how many moments passed as she stood motionless, save for her shaking hands covered in blood... _his blood. _

The smell of death was now overwhelming. She knew wherever he had been, someone had died. As if sensing this Draco's eyes found hers, she noticed a flicker of disgust and wondered what upset him more— knowing she had seen him bleed or that she was still here.

He shot to his feet quickly. He was mumbling something to Mink. Hermione couldn't place the words, her own breathing consuming her ability to hear anything.

She felt the elf grab her hand and instantly felt sick. The blood was not only on her hands, her dress, but on her face and she could taste it. A violent shudder pulsed through her as she wondered if it was only his blood or one of her friends… she felt her step falter— a firm hand caught her elbow and once she was steadied it was gone. She glanced up to see Malfoy's hand dropping to his side and he turned away from her.

The elf was talking now—

"Miss needs a bath. Mink will take you now."

Hermione felt the bile rise in her throat, but shoved it away once her thoughts caught up to her. She turned to see Draco taking several steps backward.

"What happened?" She asked taking a step away from the elf and towards him.

He mirrored her step, putting distance between them. She frantically searched his hardened expression for answers. He remained completely stoic; the look frighteningly similar to the one he wore all of sixth year making her remember where her thoughts before his abrupt entrance—

Her mind drifted to the texts and journals— he was using Occlumency— compartmentalizing whatever reaction he should be having. This thought infuriated her. He could easily hide his emotions and shove them away, while she was left in this room growing mad with helplessness, replaying every possible horrible outcome and then he shows up like this—

"Answer me." She said taking another step forward.

This time he didn't move, save for the twitch of his jaw. His darkened gaze met hers, if she wasn't so angry she was sure she would have flinched from the force of it. He breathed once and tore his eyes away from hers to look down at the elf.

"Do as I said."

The sound of 'pop' as he disappeared felt like a slap to Hermione's face. She grew increasingly frustrated with every passing second. She grunted loudly in exasperation. She wanted to pull her hair out.

_That incorrigible asshole!_

Hermione hadn't realized she had said this aloud until the small elf began mumbling beside her, rubbing its ear repeatedly.

"Master was hurt. Master is better now. Mink made sure of it. He wants Miss to be better too. Miss should come with Mink. Mink will clean Miss so Master will return happy."

Hermione didn't stop herself from rolling her eyes as she stomped across the large room and headed towards the bathroom.

"Mink will get Miss a new dress!" The elf called after her, but Hermione was already pulling the bathroom door open and shoving it closed.

* * *

Draco hated sitting with this thoughts almost as much as he hated talking to the other miserable witches and wizards waltzing around the grand ballroom. His mother had certainly outdone herself this time. She replaced their 'casual' chandeliers, as she referred to them, with more extravagant chandeliers brought in from some palace in France. Most of the ballroom was cleared out to make room for dancing and mingling and in the far corner a chorus of violins and a piano were charmed to play the entire night until the last guest left. The usual attendees were present as well as some foreign Ministry officials. He glanced around taking note of anyone worth speaking too to gain more information on the Dark Lords influence in other countries, but as he viewed the crowd he recognized many were already extremely drunk and not likely to talk business at this recruitment party.

The intention of such parties were not for talking business, but to lure any fence-sitters, persuading them to join the elite followers of the next leader of their new world order... or the way Draco viewed it, an excuse for the Dark Lord's followers to feel important and pretend Voldemort gives a fuck about their ability to persuade a ministry official or two, when in the end they still remain pawns in his ever-looming rise to power... _a load of bolly-crock basically. _

As Draco was scanning the crowd his gaze stopped on his father, who was speaking with Nott Sr. Draco took in his father's false portrayal of confidence as he laughed at something one of the guests said. He felt someone's eyes on him as he rolled his own, and finally found his mother's gaze. She was standing on Lucius' left. She met his stare from across the room and lifted a brow, nodding to where other people mingled. He forced a grimace at his mother and shoved away from the table he was sitting at alone.

He passed McNair, who bowed his head at him. He didn't bother to return the gesture, grabbing another glass of champagne from a tray floating by him. Several of the older Death Eaters nodded at him in approval— each one making him even more revolted than the last. He despised these men and now they were branding him as some worthy understudy for them to develop— their intentions were strictly encouraged by the Dark Lord himself. They knew the Dark Lord was adamant to mold Draco into some lethal weapon and whenever they took the time to help him they were praised. Snape had twisted the story of what happened on the Astronomy Tower to paint him as some type of brilliant mastermind and the Dark Lord hardly cared for the details— he only cared that Draco had gotten his followers into Hogwarts and that Dumbledore was dead. Draco had given him the upper hand on Harry Potter.

He saw Theo standing among a group of people he didn't recognize and distinctly avoided his gaze. It was imperative for Draco that they appear indifferent towards each other in public. Draco knew the moment the Dark Lord sniffed new blood to taint he would sink his teeth in and he wouldn't allow Theo to ever take on this burden. Once it was all they both wanted, but now they knew— they _fucking_ knew all too well _— _that everything they had ever known was utter bullshit and their fathers were nothing but afraid, pathetic followers of a psychopath.

Draco scanned the room, his eyes landing on Pius Thicknesse, who looked a bit fidgety as he stood amongst a few of Voldemort's highly revered Death-Eaters. The man was certainly not enjoying the party Draco noted. The sight of the man cause an image of the Daily Prophet to flash in Draco's mind, the title: _Muggle - Born Registration Commission _in bold letters. Heat surged through Draco's chest at the memory, the sudden influx of Muggleborns that had to be interrogated and the memories that Draco was forced to retrieve burned into his mind, their screams, their defiance that led to blood-shed and torture...

He shoved the thought away, tearing his eyes away from the man.

As he numbly conversed with the other supporters of the Dark Lord, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to the previous night. More than twelve of the Death Eaters who were currently mingling with the higher society were all fighting the Order along side him only hours ago. None of them appearing the slightest bit injured, but he could feel the scar along his collarbone pull every time he lifted his drink to his lips. He listened to the conversations with little enthusiasm, only listening if the information supplied anything of value—

His thoughts drifted to the pain of being hit by a slicing hex. It only grazed the top of his shoulder but latched on enough to filter its way down across his chest. He replayed the moments after— apparating to his room to be met with the tender hands of Hermione Granger frantically trying to heal him.

He grimaced at the memory and swallowed the rest of his drink. If he had been thinking clearly he would have remembered that she was there, but he wasn't thinking clearly and now he couldn't stop thinking how quick she was to put her small hands on his skin, trying his best not to commit the feel of them to memory.

Part of him knew she wouldn't simply watch him die, but he hoped she might. The look of worry in her eyes directed at him set the hairs on the back of his neck on end. He grabbed another glass and began walking through the crowd.

He felt her breath filter across his skin as she whispered to him—

He felt the worry in her eyes as she tipped the potion to his lips—

Her eyes drifting to the wand in his hand—

That's when he gained control over his senses.

He lifted the champagne glass to his lips now and took a step outside, hoping the chilling breeze would calm his racing mind, but without the distraction of others around him his mind seemed to wander ever deeper through the memory.

He could still see her brown eyes looking into his right before he left… It was only a slight difference from the last time he saw her. She clearly didn't trust him then—

_How often, I wonder, are you sent to revive your families torture victims Malfoy?_

He finished another glass and inhaled deeply. The chill of the air did nothing to his conflicting thoughts and now he had to return to her. His mother would expect him to stay in his room, as would the others who would surely linger into the late hours after the party. There was no escaping the inevitable.

Tonight he would be have to get through sleeping in the same room as Hermione Granger. The first two weeks she had been unconscious and he hardly noticed she was there besides the times he had to give her potions. He slept in one of the guest rooms, well napped— He hardly slept anymore. If his father hadn't noticed him sleeping in the guest room one night he wouldn't bother returning to his room at all, but that wasn't the case.

He returned to the crowd of people in search of another drink. All he wanted to do was to fall asleep. He imagined Granger was probably wide awake, waiting for him to return with a million questions for him.

"Hello Draco."

The familiar airy female voice caused him to tense immediately as his eyes fell upon long pale blonde hair and wide blue eyes. She was adorning a delicate necklace around her throat and Draco glared at the piece of jewelry, knowing it's intent to keep the witch from being able to disobey its master. It took every ounce within Draco's mental ability to not march right up to Lucius and slice his head off with the end of his champagne flute after her broke it across his smug face—

"You've gotten yourself tangled in an array of emotions as of late, haven't you? I can tell by the warmpgrindles floating around your head."

Draco frowned down at her and wrapped his hand around her arm pulling her off to the side away from any prying eyes, she rambled on as they crossed the vast ballroom. Draco walked quickly as others moved out of their way, noticing the determined look on his face.

"Normally the blue warmpgrindles only appear when you're upset about something. I noticed them when you visited me in the dungeons the first night, when you brought me dinner after your father told you not to." Luna kept speaking at Draco, clearly oblivious to his intent to remove her from the party.

"Now, they're shades of blues, purples and yellows— which is quiet peculiar. The purple warmpgrindles are often to be representative of lust, though the yellows would entail some sort of confusion or uncertainty is also involved…"

Luna was still rambling and Draco rolled his eyes as the last group of people finally parted for them to retreat to the balcony.

"Perhaps you're confused by the lustful feelings, but that wouldn't explain the blues..." Luna trailed off, and then brightened as Draco finally turned on his heel and glanced around ensuring no one was watching them. She lifted one finger in the air as she smiled up at him. "Oh, I know! You must be _confused_ because your _lustful_ feelings also bring you _sadness_!"

"What?" Draco was starring at her in confusion, not listening to anything she had said leading up to this moment. "My lustful what—?! You know what— nevermind." He shook his head and sighed, "What the bloody hell are you doing here? Did my father give you that necklace, Lovegood?"

"Oh, I was invited to the party." She said with a smile. Draco rolled his eyes again.

"I can see that." He said through gritted teeth. "What I meant is— why did my father allow you to come? How long have you been wearing the necklace?"

Something inside of Draco swelled hoping he was wrong, but knew he probably wasn't. Having Luna on display for the foreign visitors to see would only make the Death Eaters seem more enticing. Her father's involvement in spreading news began to cross country borders and many still admired her father's influence, hoping for his return.

Luna reached her fingers to the thin diamond necklace and furrowed her brows together.

"I don't remember putting this on..."

_He must have placed a confundous charm on her too._

Draco tried to not let her see his frustration. She clearly didn't know she was being controlled by his father.

"Look, Lovegood. I have to return to the ballroom, but I'll visit the dungeons soon. I promise. Can you just—" He swallowed, avoiding her eyes and glancing down at his feet. "Can you just endure a little longer. Somethings happened and it may mean I can't come as often, but I'll see if Theo or Blaise—"

"Oh… Blaise is lovely company. I would enjoy that very much." She said and lifted her hand to his shoulder. "Don't worry about me Draco. I'm certain you won't abandon me. You know— warmpgrindles only accompany those with good hearts— they're attracted to deep emotions— and you have plenty of deep emotions for a whole swarm to thrive off of."

She tilted her head slightly, grinning as her eyes glanced above his head where Draco assumed she imagined something to be floating. Draco tried to suppress his grimace. She was all sorts of barmy and he didn't have time to wonder what her imaginary creatures meant.

"Warmpgrindles, sure. I'll be sure to add them to the list."

Luna smiled brightly.

"Come on," Draco nodded over his shoulder. "We should get back to the party."

He ignored the sickening dread attempting to fill his throat as he watched her float across the ballroom to where Dolohov and his father stood. Lucius smirked down at her and slipped his hand around her waist.

Draco turned away quickly, searching for Theo among the crowd. Once their eyes met he nodded towards Luna while switching his silver ring from one finger to the other, knowing he would catch the underlining meaning to the gesture. He watched as Theo excused himself from the girl he was dancing with and slowly made his way to where Lucius stood.

Draco was too far away to hear their conversation, but the moment Lucius nodded his approval for Theo to remove Luna from his grasp he felt the heavy dread in his chest lessen slightly.

He was sure Theo would be able to keep her away from his father or the others for the rest of the night. Keeping Lovegood away became another attempt for Draco and Theo to believe they were not like their fathers— though they both knew they wouldn't always be there to intercede. Theo nodded at him from across the room his eyes then falling on the dainty blonde girl in his arms, discreetly mouthing— _I've got her_.

He watched Theo twirl Luna around the dance floor for a few moments and then headed straight to his mother excusing himself for the night.

He was too exhausted to try and mingle with people he dreamt of murdering, instead he used his efforts to place the sight of the disgusting way his father clung to Lovegood into its respective vine inside his mind.

He felt bile rise in his throat thinking of the necklace his father helped create wrapped around Luna's neck— another one of the Dark Lords brilliant experiments...

He never knew his father to take advantage of its magic besides for a show of power, but whose to say he wouldn't pawn her off on one of his guests he was attempting to impress?

He should do something. He knew that would be the right thing to do.

_It's what Granger would do— _

That thought hit him square in his chest making his feet stop just before his bedroom door.

He begged whatever higher power that existed to torture him to spare him just this once and let her be asleep. He inhaled deeply, shutting his eyes as he shifted each individual vine into place, until thoughts of what his father or Dolohov or whoever else would do to Lovegood no longer remained. He was a blank slate now, and he hoped that wouldn't falter the moment he laid eyes on a certain witch just beyond his door.


	5. Inquiry & Necessity

**A/N: Ah— the moment we've all been waiting for… Draco and Hermione's first real interaction.**

* * *

Hermione rose to her feet the moment she heard him arrive. The entire day she had expected something bad to happen— for Blaise or Theo to rush in and tell her Malfoy was dead, or for someone to walk through that door and find her, or Voldemort himself to walk in and kill her without any hesitation—

She hardly slept after he left and she found it difficult to give into sleep when he still hadn't returned… but here he was— almost an entire twenty four hours later.

He took two long strides and stopped a few feet before her, his hands resting firmly behind his back. She felt her pulse jump and waited, uncertain of what his arrival meant for her. She took in his attire. He was dressed in an elegant black fitted suit and the smell of alcohol lingered in the air around him.

After his quick departure she had taken a long bath and been given a new nightdress, this one was a deep red and unlike the white one, lacked sleeves. She begged the elf to adjust it for her, but the elf refused to as the dress belonged to Narcissa Malfoy— something she was certain Malfoy would notice.

She could feel her skin prickle as his eyes took in her new attire. She didn't enjoy the way his eyes lingered on her arms and then her throat— she saw his jaw tense and he swallowed before meeting her eyes.

"Ask your questions." He said flatly.

"Excuse me?" She said while every emotion she had been trying suppress since he left; anger, confusion, fear, worry began bubbling to the surface— heat spread upon her cheeks the longer his gaze held hers.

"You want to know why you are here. You want me to tell you why you aren't dead— Why the Dark Lord isn't aware that you are still alive— Where your pathetic friends are—"

"Don't." She narrowed her eyes at him, forcing the heat through her stare though her voice sounded small compared to his demanding presence. "Don't you dare say a word against Harry or Ron."

He shrugged, infuriating her further.

"Fine." He took one step, and then turned to the two chairs in front of the fire, taking a seat. "I won't."

She huffed in frustration as she knew she would follow him. The small gesture may have seemed insignificant, but she knew he was far more intentional than he led on. It was his way of reminding her that he had all the power here. She hated how helpless he made her feel, but she followed nonetheless.

He didn't tare his eyes away from the dancing flames as she sat in the seat a few inches from his. She was suddenly aware how exposed she felt, the heat of the flames flickering at her skin. The red gown was short as it was thin, and as she sat she nervously tugged at the fabricate pulling it down further to her knees with no success. She firmly placed her hands in her lap to keep it from moving.

After shrugging his jacket off, loosening his tie, discarding it on the armchair and unbuttoning the top two buttons on his white collar shirt he remained still as a statue, lost in thought and seemingly unfazed by her presence.

She took this as a sign he was letting her decide where this conversation would start. Her eyes scanned his face and the harsh contrast of color near his collarbone reminded her of the state he was in the last time he was here.

"Who hexed you?" She finally asked, and found her voice softer than she intended. She tried not to flinch as he glanced over to her. He looked unsettled, but answered a beat later.

"Someone from the Order."

Her heartbeat fluttered. Her mind whirled with the possibility of who was in charge of keeping the Order from falling apart. A small spark of guilt lit within her knowing how many of them had no idea where she was. She knew how worried she would be if any one of them were left behind. Harry would insist on rescue... unless he believed her to be dead.

"Why are you keeping me here?"

He didn't move his eyes away from hers. The intensity of it seemed to extend from him, across the small space between them until it reached her skin and crawled its way down her spine.

"Would you prefer my father's quarters?" He asked with a slight lift of his brow.

She was unable to grimace or react in anyway as he leaned forward. The proximity of his knee to hers caused her to tense. She wasn't sure if she should be planning an escape or an attack.

"I already told you. It's necessary to keep you alive."

"Necessary." She repeated, studying his reaction. He kept his eyes on hers though she saw the same flicker of something odd behind them, like he was forcing a thought away. She shifted uncomfortably under his stare. She attempted to pull her too short dress down again, lifting her chin hoping to appear more confident than she felt. "Necessary for whom?"

He paused, dropping his gaze. After several quiet moments she sighed.

"Ok... well— what is it you plan to do... with me?"

She knew her voice sounded weak as she dropped her eyes to her lap. She couldn't look at him as he thought over her question. She could hear her pulse and the crackling of the fire and focused on those two sounds until she heard a breath escape him. The sound almost similar to a laugh.

"Granger—"

Her name on his lips sounded animalistic, like a low growl or purr from a lion, and as she found his eyes she saw a darkened gleam to them.

"If I wanted to do anything with you it would have been done by now. Unlike my Aunt, I prefer not to play with my food before devouring it."

The words sliced through her and if he regretted saying them he didn't show it, though he was leaning back into the chair looking into the flames again.

"Right." She said nodding, starring into her lap. "How long do you plan to keep me then?"

Her real question hung between them unsaid—

'Are you planning to ever let me go?'

He smirked, "How long do you suppose it will take for Potter to kill the Dark Lord?"

She frowned slightly, considering his words and tried to understand his intentions for keeping her. Saving her may not have been for any other reason than— 'if Harry won, Draco could use her as leverage to clear his involvement with Voldemort. He could tell the Order that he kept her alive all this time.'

"Y-You... want Harry to win?" She asked slowly.

"It's not a matter of what I want Granger." He clipped, his aggravation apparent in his tone and she felt the anger in her growing quickly.

"Then what is it a matter of? Tell me— because, even though you try to hide it, it's clear that you don't want any of this— You don't want to be a murderer, Malfoy. If you did then it would have been you who took Dumbledore's life and not Snape, and you would have identified Harry the moment you saw me and Ron— a-and you would have just let me die—"

"You honestly think it's that simple?!"

She flinched away from the sudden rage in his voice. He was practically growling with anger as he spat his words at her. She starred at him with confusion laced across her features, making him bark a laugh so chilling she tightened her grip on the end of her nightdress, instinctively feeling for her missing wand— the loss of magic constantly weighing on her.

"Let me make one thing clear, Granger—" He leaned forward again and the iciness of his stare grabbed hold of her, wrapping itself around her throat and shoulders keeping her firmly focused on him. "—I'm not keeping you here out of mercy. I'm not keeping you alive to suddenly switch sides and join the Order— I could give a damn what happens to Potter—"

"So I'm just your leverage, then?" she asked through gritted teeth. "If the Dark Lord wins then you're safe to continue playing Death Eater— and if the Dark Lord loses, you can claim me as your bargaining chip for full immunity— is that it?"

Draco's jaw clenched and she saw a fire burn behind his eyes.

"I'm not sure why I'm surprised... Slytherin through and through— Cunning, indeed." Although her voice sounded even, she felt the growing hole in the pit of her stomach as she let his words sink in. If he didn't want to help the Order then what did that mean for her? He would never help her get word to Harry, who desperately needed her now more than ever. She suddenly felt a lump forming in her throat and she quickly shoved it away. She would not let him see her cry.

"You know—" She gritted out. "—not making a choice is just as pitiful as making the wrong one."

He opened his mouth and then briskly shut it shaking his head. The heat of anger faded slightly the longer he considered what to say, allowing the gapping hole to swallow her with every moment that passed. She felt the heat of tears building behind her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

"Does it matter?"

"No." She said, laughing bitterly, "I suppose not. I suppose I should simply be grateful to you for not simply killing me like your family so desperately wants."

Her words felt thick on her tongue and she saw the twitch of his shoulders, his features appeared draw in sharply as if she had slapped him. A second later his face returned to its natural scowl, his shoulders dropping firmly.

"Very well." He nodded once, "I'm glad we could make things so clear."

His voice felt strained as he forced them out and she felt the annoyance bubbling beneath her skin for how calm he remained.

She rolled her eyes and shoved herself off the chair, taking two steps and then stopping— anger building until it too fell into the gapping hole growing inside her, a numbness settling in as she realized she was stuck here in his room with no foreseeable timeframe of when she would ever leave. Her eyes scanned the vast room, its large arched windows and dark emerald curtains keeping the moonlight from flowing in— it felt smaller now even though it remained the same size of three bedrooms combined.

She felt the blood drain from her face, instantly feeling defeated. She took several breaths and returned to her chair, glaring at him.

He lifted a brow, as if asking her if she was done pouting. She didn't acknowledge how childish she had just reacted, instead she focused her attention back on getting answers. She began ticking off the many questions that had been consuming her over the past however long she had been his prisoner. She pulled her shoulders back, determination set in her posture.

"Why didn't you confirm that it was Harry?"

His eyes darted from hers. She saw the tension in his shoulders deepen.

"You saw that his face was obscured— You knew it was him and you said nothing." She watched him for a moment as he remained completely still. She softened her tone slightly, remembering that Harry and Ron escaped. "Malfoy— if you would have confirmed who we were then—"

"You're trying to write a false narrative, Granger— I didn't exactly keep you from being tortured, did I?" His voice was even as he kept his eyes drawn downward focused on his hands. "Everything I did that night was only to protect myself."

She believed that was true, though she was sure there was something being unsaid. Some hidden motive that, even if he was unaware of it, existed. Any other Death Eater would have gladly turned Harry Potter over.

"Do you know why Bellatrix was torturing me?" She asked softly, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes as he searched her face. Her eyes were drawn down to where the words were carved into her skin, and she began peeling back the cloth Draco had wrapped around it while she was sleeping. She felt a strange heat of embarrassment knowing he had tended to her while she was unconscious. He could have simply let Mink do all the healing, but Blaise and Theo had made it clear that it was Draco who wrapped her arm so she wouldn't have to see it.

"She thought you three stole something from her vault." His voice was tight.

Hermione nodded and unwrapped the last of the cloth. Her eyes frowned and she felt a sharp breath escape her mouth as the cold air tickled the exposed flesh. The wounded area surrounding the words etched into her forearm was bruised in shades of purple, pink and blue.

She heard Draco swallow and when she looked up, his skin was drained of any color as his eyes focused on her arm.

"Blaise told me the knife was cursed. How did you know how to make it stop bleeding?"

Draco swallowed again, glancing away into the flames. The same look in his eyes, like he was shoving something away, hiding a part of his expression from her.

"I've seen her use that blade before. I've been working on a counter cure for awhile now…"

Hermione found herself not only impressed, but also itching to ask him how it worked. She wanted to ask him about his interest in muggle viruses, blood curse extraction, how he came so proficient in Occlumency… It took everything in her to not grab a piece of parchment, write down her entire list of questions and demand him to answer each one. She needed to stay focused and be precise. He could disappear for another week again any moment for all she knew.

"Just like you've created new potions?" She lifted a brow and his narrowed eyes shot to hers with suspicious surprise. "The potion I've been taking isn't any regular healing potion— syrup of hellebore and honeywater both have very distinctive smells. They're among the top most fragrant ingredients we studied in fifth year."

He frowned.

"I figured it out when I was unable to move the first night you let me out of the smaller room— when I woke up to you forcing me to take it." She continued. "The potion cures the effects of extended torture— the internal damage, but renders you useless, paralyzed until it drains your system of the strain from the torture. It's— sort of— well, brilliant."

His mouth twitched in the corner. She couldn't help herself this time.

"How did you come up with that?"

He didn't look at her for several moments before he started speaking.

"The Dark Lord recruited me to… experiment with different areas of magic. Turns out I'm one of the more competent Death Eaters, when it comes to intelligence anyway." Draco explained slowly, grimacing. "After seeing that knife used on my—" he stopped considering his words carefully, obviously keeping a piece of his explanation from her. "—well, anyways I began to look for ways to counteract its effects because I feared— well, I just wanted to be able to control or cure whatever the Dark Lord asked me to create… So it was created it out of necessity."

"Oh."

Necessity.

She was beginning to wonder if that was the only way Draco knew how to live now— actions and decisions based on necessity…

He cleared his throat and continued to describe the process to her, answering the question he knew to follow. There was a sharp focus in his features that caught Hermione's attention, hanging on his every word. She could sense how passionate he was about the things he was creating because he sounded like she did after researching something for hours on end and trying to explain it to Harry or Ron with too much enthusiasm.

"The potion is only a temporary solution— to numb the pain mostly— sort of like phase one of the healing process. The second phase is much more extensive and I'm still attempting to understand its effectiveness. I've only been able to successfully save one other victim." His voice tightened, and Hermione wondered who the said victim was as he seemed extremely uncomfortable mentioning whoever it was. "Even after months of treatment, there are still traces of the curse in their blood. It's very difficult to predict if it will ever be completely gone."

She glanced down at her arm again. The red flesh burning bright, though the pain was numb. His words sunk into her thoughts, floating there and she kept them there— not trusting herself if she let them root in place. She knew what he was telling her without saying the words. The curse could eventually kill her. 'How long would it take— If she didn't take the potions would it be a day— hours? Would she be able to stay alive long enough to help Harry defeat Voldemort? She would have to worry about that later.'

A heavier thought demanded her attention as she traced her skin where the blade penetrated her forearm— the thought was unsettling and she couldn't ignore its significance considering their past interactions. Draco Malfoy was going through the trouble of curing her 'dirty blood'— it weighted on her for a few moments until she glanced up at him, a wave of overwhelming confusion and gratitude filled her wanting to swallow her.

"Thank you."

The words left her mouth before she realized she had said them aloud. She met his silver eyes, watching her and she felt her lip twitch slightly as his eyes widen in disbelief.

"Oh, don't look so surprised Malfoy. My gratitude is a bit overdo…"

He frowned and nodded, looking into the fire though she saw the hint of a smile before his face fell into its normal scowl. For a moment she wondered what Harry and Ron would think, seeing her sitting in front of a fire having a conversation with Malfoy. It was becoming more apparent that the Malfoy sitting in front of her now was far from the cowardly, self-righteous boy they went to school with. This Malfoy was rougher, sharper in more than just his features, but his outlook on life now too, it seemed.

Hermione glanced at him, and shifted her legs slightly trying to consider her next question carefully. She wasn't sure how much he would be willing to share about Voldemort, but he hadn't refused to answer a question yet...

"These... 'experiments' You-Know-Who has you working on— do you know what he's planning?"

His jaw clenched. His eyes seemed distant as he looked at her, a darkness flooded the icy grey she had started familiarizing herself with. He scoffed a slight laugh that made his eyes turn darker.

"The experiments are just the beginning of what he plans to do once he gains full control of the Ministry. It's probably best if I didn't befoul your precious mind with such vulgar possibilities."

Although his tone was light, she felt the underlay of contempt laced beneath. Of course she had imagined a world where Harry lost. She was logical after all and her imagination could be quiet grim. She frowned thinking of the horrid things someone as intelligent and resourceful as Voldemort could do without any threat of death to stop him. As if sensing her discomfort at his words he cleared his throat and tried asking her a question instead.

"So did you three really break into Gringotts?"

She didn't miss the hint of disbelief in his tone.

She shook her head. "Um, no— though…"

She paused and considered trusting him with the heavy thoughts in her mind.

"Bellatrix believed we stole the sword of Gryffindor, but we didn't… actually, it appeared to us while we were—" She paused, thinking better of revealing too much. "It revealed itself to us in a time of need."

He barked a laugh, this one less angry and more sarcastic in nature.

"Of course it did, bloody Gryffindors..." he mumbled and the playful way he said it calmed her slightly.

It was as if she could finally feel herself relax into existing this close to him, no longer worried that he would strike at any moment. She thought about asking him if he had ever been to her vault— if he knew what she kept in it— if he had access to it, but she decided against it. He may be answering her questions, but that didn't mean she could trust him with her secret; Harry's secrets. Before he could ask her more about the vault or the sword she quickly changed the subject as her eyes saw the hint of a scar on his collarbone.

"So, what happened to you before you— um, showed up covered in blood? You said the Order was involved?"

He considered how to answer before sighing and sitting up a bit straighter. It was then she realized the dark circles under his eyes, and how sunken in his cheeks seemed. She wondered when the last time he had slept considering she had been occupying his room. Sure, the Manor wasn't without it's guest rooms, a large number she imagined, but wouldn't that seem suspicious to the others who actually lived here? Did he usually sleep in his room or did he sleep somewhere else? With someone else?

She stopped her thoughts abruptly as he began to speak.

"Several Order members and sympathizers were attempting to free prisoners from one of the Dark Lord's smaller bases. We were sent to stop them."

"We?"

"Yes, we..." lifting his hand, motioning towards the black robes and white mask across the room, "...hence the Dark Mark and Death Eater accoutrement."

"Right..." She nodded. "Y-You seemed rather wounded... well, I mean from what I saw— Could you tell me— well, did anyone else— was anyone from the Order—"

"Did anyone from your precious Order die?" He finished evenly with no hint of concern in his tone. He shrugged before continuing, "It's possible, though I didn't recognize any of them if that soothes your delicate conscious. It was a mess trying to get out of there in one piece, as you may have noticed upon my abrupt arrival."

She tried not to wince hearing his words. A flash of his blood pouring out replayed in her mind and she tried not to imagine who else may have been hurt. She couldn't focus on that. Not now.

"Did they get who they were after?"

"No." His face turned to the fire. "Anyone who got out of their cells were killed instantly."

She felt a giant wave of guilt crash through her lungs as she tried to breath. She shut her eyes tight as his words jolted around inside her mind. A dark thought whispered in the depths of her mind— 'had he been the one ordered to kill them? Did he show them mercy as he did her?'

She couldn't be sure if she was crying, but she forced herself to keep her eyes down and breath evenly. 'This was war.' She knew people would die. She almost died herself. She didn't need Malfoy to think she couldn't handle the truth or he may stop telling her, if only to save him from listening to her sob.

She was about to ask another question when he shifted in the chair and rose to his feet, pausing to look down at her.

"If that covers it for tonight, I think I'd like to get some sleep."

She tilted her head up and recognized something in his stare that she had never seen on his sharp features before. It reminded her of the way Harry would bring her tea after she awoke from a nightmare. His features quickly shifted before she could place it, his eyes glanced around the room and stopped on the bed, before flickering back to her and then towards fire— like he was unsettled by being alone with her though they had been for several minutes now.

"Alright..." She slowly stood, unknowingly closing the small distance between them. She looked up to see him still starring down at her. She felt the warmth of him taunting her. Her skin tingled as he remained still save for the slight twitch of his jaw and his eyes lowered from her eyes to her mouth to her exposed collarbone...

She quickly glanced away, taking a step awkwardly past him and her eyes fell on the bed causing another jolt of heat to rise to her cheeks.

It was suddenly quite apparent that he was intending to sleep in his own room tonight and a thought occurred to her suddenly. 'Had he been sleeping in the same bed as her while she was unconscious?'

She turned to see him transfiguring the two chairs they were sitting on into a small mattress. It wasn't until he began laying down on it that she noticed he had removed his shoes. She attempted not to watch as his long fingers began to unbutton his collar shirt, folding it and placing it on the ground, but she was frozen in place watching how graceful he lowered himself onto the small mattress with the flames of fire dancing behind him.

"Um," She cleared her throat and glanced at the fire. He was unbuttoning his trousers now, the sound of his belt clicking metal on metal coming undone. She shifted her eyes away, turning her body slightly. "I-I— You should, um— "

She glanced back and then away again. In the split second she allowed herself she realized he was now only wearing a white cotton shirt and emerald silk boxers. His eyes were shut and he tossed one arm behind his head. She took another hurried step forward, resting one hand on the bed post.

"This is your room, and um— don't you think you should sleep in your bed?"

When he didn't answer immediately she slowly turned and her face flushed as she saw him peeking up at her with one eye open, an infuriating smirk plastered across his face.

"Granger, if you'd like to share a bed with me just say so."

"That's not—" She stammered out, feeling her face turn the color of her nightdress and she quickly wrapped her arms tightly around herself, then shaking her head with an awkward laugh as she tried to explain, "I didn't mean— I just meant that it's your bed, and I'm practically a guest, er prisoner?, so you shouldn't have to sleep down there—"

"Goodnight Granger."

She stood with her mouth open for a moment before turning on her heel quickly to get into the large bed, suddenly extremely annoyed with how smug he looked as his eyes scanned her over once— but then it was quiet except for the fire crackling every few moments and she had entirely too much to think about...

Some time passed as she tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep, which she was finding difficult knowing a Death Eater was only a few feet away. She categorized all that she learned tonight and she found her thoughts continuously returning one unfortunate conclusion—

She needed Malfoy.

She needed him to continue to hide her until she could figure out what she was going to do next.

Hermione couldn't help but wonder if she could convince Malfoy to let her go. It was obvious that he didn't enjoy being a Death Eater and maybe she could play on that. Maybe she could convince him to escape with her? She would promise him safety. She could guarantee it—

She turned over to her other side, huffing in frustration. It seemed impossible to know anything about him or what he'd do. It was clear to her that he was struggling to make sense of what he wanted to do and what was expected of him.

'Well that's just it then— isn't it? She just needed to make everything clear.'

So, with that final though, Hermione drifted off to sleep plotting ways to earn Draco Malfoy's trust.

* * *

Draco heard the sound of her releasing an aggravated breath and found himself smirking into the darkness. He wanted to join her in her exasperation as he too was entirely unsettled by her presence so close to him while he attempted to fall asleep.

He did everything he could to force his eyes to stop before lowering past her lips moments ago, but failed miserably. He was immediately grateful the moment she turned quickly to walk away from him— then immediately frustrated at himself for watching as the red nightgown bounced around her thighs in a way that would tease his mind until the end of his life, '_which granted could be any day now_.' The curve of her hips joined by the tint of her cheeks when he smirked at her was enough to make him let out a low growl of frustration for his lack of ability to control his damned hormones.

If she looked now, she would see him scowling with eyes pressed firmly shut in an attempt to bury that infuriatingly delight of an image beneath the hedges of interwoven vines and deep into the ground below his Occlumency maze— which was slowly becoming his labyrinth of forbidden thoughts regarding Hermione Granger.

Once he controlled his thoughts to firmly steer clear of all things concerning Granger's body, he attempted to sort out their conversation and hide it in its respective place within his mind, which allowed him a slightly less biased view— allowing him to think more with his brain and less with his, well, another organ which had been more or less neglected for quite some time— and even though he knew Granger would never want him touch her, he couldn't help but wonder what the skin along her throat down to her collarbone would feel like under his fingertips, and what else he would find under that bloody nightdress covering practically NOTHING!—

He turned his body to face the fire and shoved that thought away and sighed loudly... focus.

He would demand Mink transfigure her something hideously baggy to wear, if only to keep him sane.

_Didn't you just tell yourself to focus?!_

He hated that he had to remind himself.

Before she arrived with Potter and Weasley his mind was an unbreakable labyrinth, an intricately woven structured fortress of vines... capable to withhold any secret— capable to keep himself from feeling any type of unwanted emotion.

Even Snape had mentioned his Occlumency skills seemed 'pathetically rattled as of late'.

Draco rolled his eyes as he forced the thought of Snape quickly away— preferably forever.

_Her first question. Start there._

He hadn't been expecting her to start with worrying over him. He half expected, if anything, for her to demand him to take her to Potter that instant, but instead— and more infuriatingly— she seemed concerned with what happened to him.

_Leave it to Granger to worry about the bloody Death Eater who was keeping her locked in his room like a prisoner, which she is, technically... _

He frowned considering this. She trusted too easily. She shouldn't. If she knew half of the things other Death Eaters did to those unfortunate enough to be trapped within their grasp…

He forced the vine containing images of Luna deeper until he no longer felt its presence.

'Why am I here?'

The moment she asked him it felt like a sharp tip of a nail was placed over his chest, not entirely piercing his skin, but firmly like it would puncture the skin any moment.

'Keeping you alive is necessary.'

Even to him it sounded like a pathetic excuse of an answer, but he wasn't entirely sure he could admit his true intentions for saving her without forcing him to consider the larger picture. Hadn't his decision to save her cause him to ultimately choose a side?

'How long do you plan to keep me?'

'As long as I know you're safe' — had been his initial internal response, or possibly — 'Until you figure out a better plan because you're the brains aren't you?'

But both of those answers, no matter how much he believed or didn't believe to be true, insinuated that he believed her to be the answer to it all— which, perhaps he was finally accepting he might— though, his spoken words would indicate something slightly different, but still with the same underlying meaning...

'How long do you suppose it will take for Potter to defeat the Dark Lord?'

To which he actually meant—

'There's no way Potty and Weaslebrain can figure shit out without you so you're probably stuck with me for the long haul if you want to remain alive— sorry.'

But of course, she had to press the nail deeper into his skin—

'You want Harry to win?'

And of course, she thought the obvious thing to do now was to turn himself over to the Order. He had always found her logic infuriating, even while they were in school. No matter how brilliant she was it was impossible for her to understand it was far from light and dark for him. She's been exposed to the light for so long with only glimpses of the darkness that she couldn't imagine not fighting it—

'Which was just pure shit logic if you think about it because the so called 'light' isn't always accessible to everyone. What if all you have is darkness and are forced to make choices within the darkness to save yourself and the people you care about?'

It was a thought he contemplated often and she had to go and remind him who had started that strain of consciousness by bringing up Dumbledore and well, he probably could have handled that better.

He could hear it in her voice; hope— practically reach out and grab it, though if his response did anything; it twisted the metaphorical 'hope' in his grasp and watched it shatter to the floor, along with her belief that he would do anything more than what ensured his own survival.

'So I'm just your leverage, then? If the Dark Lord wins then you're safe to continue playing Death Eater— and if the Dark Lord loses, you can claim me as your bargaining chip for full immunity— is that it?'

That's when he felt the tip of the metaphorical nail crack the surface of bone hovering just above his heart—

'I'm not sure why I'm surprised—'

He should have felt the pounding of blood behind his ears, or his face burning in reaction to her words, but instead he focused on the control of his green hedges within the maze and created another layer to them, turning to take a left, then another, and another and another—

'Slytherin through and through. Cunning, indeed. You know— not making a choice is just as pitiful as making the wrong one.'

— and another... until he was numb and his voice floated from him like escaping a hallow void.

'Does it matter?'

He knew if he hadn't hidden his true emotions so far behind the hedges that he would have felt the way her words harshly slid off her tongue hitting him square in the face.

'No. I suppose not. I suppose I should simply be grateful to you for not simply killing me like your family so desperately wants.'

The meaning of her words went deeper than her recent run in with Bellatrix and even if he was unable to feel it, they registered somewhere deep inside him, reminding him of their past and what he represented in her world.

The weaker part of him felt that if she continued to maneuver her way through his answers, countering them with her calculated questions, that he would give in to her every demand because she represented something for him too, and it scared the shit out of him. Hermione Granger let him foolishly think he was worth redeeming.

She had already forced his hand without even knowing it as she lay helplessly on his drawing room floor, moments from greeting death— and he had given in so easily, tucking her safely away within his room for him to keep as a reminder of the one good decision he was never supposed to make; foolishly letting him think she was his to protect. It was a miserable truth buried deep within him that he intended to keep hidden forever.

He wanted her to stop there— to hold onto that version of him because he knew she would need that fire of hatred towards him if it ever came down to it.

And he thought she would stop as she shoved herself out of the chair across from him he was grateful for the release on him.

The imaginary nail pulled back, releasing the pressure upon his chest.

But damn it if she wasn't abhorrently relentless—

— and the nail was shoved right back in place when she asked about Potter and the vivid memory of her writhing on the drawing room floor, contorted in pain flashed before him— the deep alcove where that memory belonged, attached to its rotting vine came soaring forward to the front of his mind, replaying the sound of her cries and he wanted to shake her, and comfort her, and scream— and apologize— but he didn't.

Instead he forced the vine back in its place and continued to answer her questions, feigning interest, desperate for it to end.

It was beginning to infuriate him how easy it was for him to lose control over his Occlumency abilities where she was concerned. He had been practicing the skill practically since infancy and now it was as if she was completely aware of his labyrinth and delicately staked her claim at its entrance, poking her head forward when she so pleased.

When their conversation did finally come to an end she managed to settle him into a comfort of sorts allowing the hedges containing his suppressed emotions to relax its hold, making him vulnerable to whatever came next. He realized this too late as he moved to stand in front of her, less than a few inches between them.

He was much taller than her and from his viewpoint he was able to take in her features in a way he was never allowed before— like the way her long brown lashes fanned out over her blushing cheeks, sheltering her brown eyes that were now lit by the fire to their left letting him notice the specks of amber— and really they were more the tint of a delicious dark honey— he made the mistake of lingering his gaze, exploring downward as she lifted her eyes to met his.

He was glad he kept his hands clasped behind his back, because the slight part of her lips and the sharp intake of breath burned a wave of longing through him making his fingers twitch at the thought of touching her where the breath had slipped out.

He felt a swell of want twitch in his chest, burning a path down— he realized too late how long he allowed himself to explore and immediately shifted his gaze, hating himself for even indulging such ideas.

His eyes then landed on the bed, the swell twitched and he quickly adverted his eyes again— swearing inwardly at himself and releasing a sigh of relief when she made the first move to increase the distance between them; reminding him that she was, in fact, not here by choice and she would most likely be repulsed if he attempted to act on such impulses.

Now, as he lay on the small mattress he transfigured he continued to inwardly curse himself, unable to rid the lingering thoughts for teasing their way to the forefront of his mind. It was the more selfish part of him, he knew, to imagine her that way... knowing full well that Hermione Granger was far from deserving of his darker thoughts— thoughts he was never allowed to have while they were classmates. She had seemed so ordinary then. Her appeal was simple and quiet forgettable, or so he thought... but now with her so close, in his room, in his bed...

_'For fuck's sake—'_

He promised to deal with his recent neglect of his needs as to not resort to thinking of Granger in that way, because surely it wasn't anything more than his overwhelming need to concentrate on anything besides the terrible disaster that was his life outside of his room.

_No, definitely not. It's just— been. awhile... and that fucking pathetic. excuse of a nightgown leaves almost. nothing to the. imagination!'_

Yes. First thing in the morning Draco would demand Mink provide her with new clothes— extremely conservative, loose, baggy, hideous— clothes and then he'll return to simply tolerating her— **out of necessity**.


	6. Missions & Memories

Draco finally caught his breath as he felt himself being flung to the surface, escaping the suffocating depths of the water. He felt soaked, heavy, and his muscles ached. Between shaky gasps he opened his eyes to realize he was completely dry. Snape was standing over him from his position on the cold stone floor with his wand pointed down at him, the pale headmaster slowly lowered it as his eyes darkened, scanning over Draco's body and landing on his face, keeping them there as his frown deepened slightly.

"You've let something weaken you." Snape's hard expression came into focus as Draco wiped at the liquid falling from his eyes and cheeks.

He was no longer ashamed of shedding tears in front of the new headmaster, as it was becoming something of a reoccurrence around the wizard who was crafting him into his equal: a unsettling yet brilliant wizard— savagely so. He wondered if Snape's intentions in giving him defense lessons were just an extension of the vow he made to his mother to protect him, though he fulfilled his promise on the Astronomy Tower all those nights ago. Draco shuddered at the thought and pushed it aside. No matter Snape's purpose behind developing him, he was somewhat grateful as it only sharpened his skills to during interrogations from the Dark Lord.

Though, if Draco knew private lessons with Snape would be as excruciating as the last several moments he would have opted to continue having Bellatrix as an instructor instead— her intrusion amounted to only physical pain. Snape's technique's were much more advanced and Draco often wondered if his old professor got off on tearing into Draco's most intimate memories— forcing him to relive his shame on a loop.

Draco could still remember the first lesson with Snape, which began immediately after his integration into the Dark Lord's ranks. Snape no longer made his lessons optional, ensuring Draco that he would appreciate it one day.

The first round of lessons involved Snape stumbling through his childhood memories, mostly from his first year of Hogwarts, finding a memory that Draco had tried to forget ever existed: his first day at Hogwarts as he introduced himself to Harry Potter, determined to befriend him and was instantly rejected to be replaced with a Weasley and a Mudblood.

Ever since that first lesson it was as if Snape could somehow find that same spark of shame and embarrassment within his minds labyrinth, latch on to it and force Draco to hide it away. Of course, being the skilled Occlumens that he was, Draco was quickly able to adjust his minds defense and easily keep such memories hidden— at least he _was_ until he attended lessons the night he hid Granger; though he successfully hid what he'd done, he'd lost control over another memory involving the stubborn curly haired witch.

The memory was similar to the others from first year, but instead of Potter being the intended focus, Snape felt something in Draco's mind that night and zeroed in on the feeling— tearing apart his memories— pushing through them so quickly that Draco was unable to catch up and understand what he was chasing until it was too late and he was being pulled along side Snape through an old abandoned memory...

A twelve year old version of himself sat on the top of the stairs in Borgin and Burkes, lost in a fantasy novel about heroes and villains, while also hiding from his father who would never let him read such childish fiction. He was hoping his father would not be able to find him and the bookshop keeper promised him earlier that day he would not tell a soul he was there so he could read all the fiction he wanted.

It wasn't until the bell hanging above the wooden door at the front of the store chimed and in walked a young girl with unruly brown curly hair that Draco understood why Snape had been drawn to this particular memory. This was a memory he repressed into the depths of his labyrinths mind along with many others involving the busy-haired-know-it-all even before he understood Occlumency could do so.

His younger self snapped his head up, a strange impulse to turn his attention away from the book pulling his stare to the door tingling across his skin. His younger self tensed and moved to the shadows of the upper level to peer down and watch the young girl who just walked in.

There was no mistaking it was Hermione Granger who bounced through his memory— carrying too many books tightly to her chest and smiling to greet the bookshop keeper. Her teeth were too large in her small mouth as she smiled and Draco remembered sneering at the sight when he was younger. She was alone and scanning the aisles, eyes wide like she was at a candy store.

His younger self moved along the railing, remaining out of sight, as his eyes followed the busy-haired girl all over the store until she began to slowly come up the stairs. She stopped half way up, finding the book that he abandoned from scurrying to hide. She smiled at the title and sat right where he had been. His younger self frowned and glared, but he didn't move to reclaim his book, instead he just continued to watch her. She smiled at certain pages and his younger self smiled too.

Draco watched in amazement. He didn't remember doing that—

It was then that Draco was reminded of another presence watching the memory causing him to quickly force the intruder away— snapping the vine back into place.

When Draco opened his eyes that night he noticed Snape was watching with an expression akin to trepidation and repulsion, an expression very out of place on the wiry pale face. He immediately dismissed Draco from his lessons that night without another word, leaving him alone in his office to recover alone.

That night Draco had not been focused at all and it was obvious that he would need to keep his distance from her until he sorted what was causing him to falter when it came to her presence in his mind.

Now, as he was panting on the same cold floor trying to regain his breath he knew that memory was well tucked away. He came to the Headmaster's office to inform him about the attack on the Death Eater base, ignoring the pain that lingered from the cut along his chest. Snape insisted he see to the round of potions they were currently working on and have a quick Occlumency lesson before he return to the Manor to help his mother get the house ready for their recruiting event Narcissa was assigned to plan by the Dark Lord.

Snape's suggestions were not to be viewed as requests, so Draco was forced to endure another rigorous lesson.

They all had their roles to play. Snape with maintaining Hogwarts, displaying the Dark Lord's control. His mother with distractions and parties, all the while aiding the Dark Lord with strategy. His father using his proficiency in Dark magic and cursed items to control anyone the Dark Lord deemed worthy of use— and Draco with his proficiency in obtaining memories, experimenting with potions and curses—

Yes, they all had a role to play and Draco was determined to have a solution to each new problem the Dark Lord created. It was the only thing giving him a sense of purpose, not to mention keep his sanity.

Just as the Dark Lord expected Draco to experiment with potions and curse-breaking, he also assigned Draco and Snape the task to improve the art of Legilimency, for interrogation purposes Draco assumed.

This was his third time letting Snape practice Voldemort's new and experimental form Legilimency to penetrate his mind and he was still unable to recover as quickly as he would have preferred.

The idea wasn't revolutionary — combining potions with spell work. It was the exact process that inspired Draco to find a way to reverse the curse of Bellatrix's blade. The intent of the spell was still very much the same though the caster of the spell could instill vivid hallucinations to interfere with their Occlumency abilities to reveal what they were hiding after giving them a special potion.

Hence the reason Draco was panting as he struggled to regain his breath, kneeling on the floor. The hallucinations were never the same, and the one Snape chose for Draco's viewing pleasure this evening was him desperately swimming from the bottom of the ocean searching for the surface that never seemed to appear, cold water filled his lungs and burned through his veins. He could still feel the tingling sensation lingering within his skin, but knew it was only in his mind.

He directed his attention to bury Snape within the tall hedged labyrinth. He spent several minutes doing this, feeling exhausted, but by no means willing to let him in. Snape was fiercely searching through the maze, tearing at the greenery around him, to then in turn be encompassed by another wave. The Headmaster stopped as several large vines the size of an anaconda shot out from the roots below and viciously wrapped around the intruder.

When Draco opened his eyes once more he was still gasping and Snape's expression remained stoic.

"An improvement, but still weak." Snape turned quickly on his heel, his robes floating across the castle's stone floor a cloud of dust rising in his wake. Draco shifted his weight and slowly stood as the Headmaster sat at his desk. "I'm sure you don't need me to instruct you to rid yourself of whatever is distracting you."

Draco just nodded, keeping his eyes away from the black orbs focused on him, studying him.

Before Snape could say anything else Draco felt a sharp tug searing from beneath his skin on his left forearm. Snape stood, lifting his own sleeve and they both glanced down at their Dark Marks, Snape's reminded black while Draco's glowed a tint of green, the snake twitched against his arm.

Snape nodded once and Draco saw a new determination set in his features that almost looked... _concerned_, but his eyes quickly set their gaze upon him losing any sense of humanity.

"Go." Snape commanded and as Draco moved to the fireplace and dropped the Floo Powder.

The moment he finished telling the Floo of his destination Snape's voice entered his ears.

"Keep her hidden."

Before he could register his words, Draco was pulled away from the Headmaster's office and hundreds of other fireplaces within the Floo Network blurred in front of him as his words rang between his ears loud enough to blur his vision momentarily.

Once the blurring stopped he felt his heartbeat ringing in his ears, pounding heavily to the beat of Snape's last words.

_No. He couldn't possibly know— _

He finally collected himself outwardly enough to step out of the fireplace, though the insides of his body was twitching with fear. He tried to relax his muscles, and unclench his jaw as the weight Snape's his words settled into his bones, making them feel soft enough to break with just a touch.

_Snape knew. Snape knew he saved Granger. _

The feeling of a hand touching his arm made him tense slightly. He looked to his left and saw his mother's concerned eyes reading his. She didn't ask. She never did. It was better for her to remain in the dark.

"The Dark Lord has requested an audience my dear."

Normally, the feeling of his mother's hand on his arm would steady him in a way other things couldn't. For the longest time he had believed that as long as she was alive then he had no right to ask for more, but now as she led him through their own home he was hit abruptly by a very sobering reality: being alive was no longer enough.

He glanced at his mother, her unsteady hand on his arm. Only he saw the tremor in her touch. To others she was a pillar of strength, but he knew the sorrow consuming the depths of her that had been slowly faded away, being chipped off with every day she remained the wife of Lucius Malfoy. It was making her a hallow shell of the beautiful and regal woman he had longed promised to keep safe, to make proud. He wondered if she truly was? Proud of him?

_How could she possibly be? I've done nothing for her that my father hasn't done himself. I have to give her more. She deserves more._

His thoughts shifted suddenly at seeing the group of Death Eaters sitting wearily before him in the vast room, awaiting their leader. The chilling sense of deja vu washed through him, taking him back to a few weeks ago when Voldemort gathered them to proclaim his need to kill Potter himself and his old muggle studies Professor floating above, helplessly, desperately pleading for Snape to help her. A shiver creeped its way through his veins, if the Dark Lord knew of Granger's existence in this very Manor...

Voldemort killed the old Professor for simply believing it to be acceptable to study, admire, and mate with Muggleborns. The thought of what he would do with Granger, an actual Muggleborn, sudden made him feel sick— bile burned in his throat desperate to escape. He forced that thought into its correct alcove in his minds maze and focused instead on what Snape just revealed to him moments ago...

He took a seat next to his mother replaying his words.

_Keep her hidden. _

Granger was no longer his secret— though Snape was never anything but helpful to him, Draco was entirely too untrusting to believe Snape wouldn't betray him if it would save his own life.

Draco noted that he was still breathing— so that in itself was a sign that the Dark Lord had not been made immediately aware by Snape— yet.

It was the possibility that was tearing at his organs making him shift uncomfortably in his seat next to his mother. She placed her hand on his and he forced his outer appearance to reveal nothing, but inside his mind there was a tornado of disastrous outcomes replaying on a loop.

Upon dwelling on every horrible possibility for almost thirty minutes in the stuffy room, with only hushed whispers for company, Draco came to a decision: He didn't trust Snape to keep his secret for long.

He knew Granger was itching to escape. She may have been occupying her mind for now with books and whatever else she did while he was away, but he knew it wouldn't last. He replayed their short conversation in his mind, knowing that both of them revealed just enough to keep the other from knowing too much. One particular instance stood out to him and he turned it over in his mind.

Breaking his concentration, the subject of said conversation with Granger took a seat next to him. She was breathing in staggered huffs, straightening her tethered black dress and wild raven colored hair.

He eyed Bellatrix as she began fidgeting anxiously beside him. Her hands were trembling in her lap, symptoms of being tortured. _What had she done wrong now?_ His Aunt's eyes were a hazed frenzy glancing around the table. She sharply leaned across Draco now whispering to his mother, ignoring that he was there at all.

"Cissy."

Bellatrix's breath infiltrated Draco's senses and he held back a gag as he shifted away towards his mother as much as he could without offending the insanely disastrous woman.

His mother eye's cut daggers over him, landing on her sister filtering down to Bellatrix's shaking hands and then back to her crazed eyes, pupils hiding within the black iris. His mother lifted a brow, her mouth in a firm line, clearly unhappy for being bothered.

"You checked it— didn't you?"

Narcissa revealed nothing— her demeanor appearing completely calm, but the hand placed on his own twitched slightly.

"Of course." His mother said plainly. "It is safe within Gringotts. I checked myself."

"Silence!" Bellatrix whispered loudly, frantically glancing around the table where no one was paying her any attention. The other Death Eaters were used to her manic behaviors.

"Oh, do calm down." His mother drawled out calmly. "I'm not daft. I placed a muffling charm around us the moment you sat. It's become quiet a habit in regards to conversations with you these days Bella, you understand…"

Bellatrix's eyes twitched mischievously.

"Very well. I would have gone myself, but I wouldn't wish to worry the Dark Lord with my absence after the raid."

His Aunt abruptly shifted away from Draco, and he immediately let out a sigh of relief. He inhaled deeply facing his mother, who was stifling a small smirk. Her features hardened once more. He met his mother's stare for a moment. He didn't dare ask her what she had been talking about with her sister. He knew better, but the small knowing glint in her blue eyes held him for a moment, reminding him of the same look in her eyes the night he had decided to save Granger.

He heard the large black wooden doors creak open from the left of the room and his mothers eyes glazed over to hide any emotion.

Everyone at the table stood as the Dark Lord entered and took his seat in the dark looming chair at the head of the table. The large snake following behind him at a creepily slow speed, wrapped herself behind his chair and lingered above his shoulder.

As everyone returned to their seats, Draco felt his mothers hand on his once more. This time her fingers were tracing something into his palm. He didn't dare move his eyes towards her.

He focused on the movements. Her long fingernail was swirling across his skin.

She was spelling something... No not spelling, but motioning... a pattern maybe?

She repeated the pattern several times. Over and over until he was sure that he would be able to repeat it back to her without hesitation.

_Left to right — upwards loop — right to left — down — flick_

The Dark Lord was speaking now.

"Mulciber, your opinion on the matter?"

_Left to right—_

Voldemort moved from his seat and listened as each Death Eater informed him of the happenings with their respective missions. He was passing behind Draco's chair now.

_Upwards loop—_

Voldemort shouted something at Rowle. Nagini hissed. Draco felt his pulse race but remained calm, focused...

_ Right to left—_

Draco cleared his throat when the Dark Lord focused his attention on him. He relayed the progress at Hogwarts, representing Snape in his absence. He told him of the work the Carrows were doing and Snape's plans to reform the curriculum appropriately. The Dark Lord moved on without a second glance.

_Downwards flick—_

It occurred to him then. His mother was tracing the motion of wand-work for a spell.

_Left to right — upwards loop — right to left — downwards flick of the wrist—_

He laced his fingers with his mothers, giving her one tight squeeze to confirm he understood. She squeezed back and then withdrew her hand, moving to stand with the others. The meeting was over.

"Mulciber, Yaxley, Malfoy— _both_ Malfoy's. Remain. Everyone else is dismissed."

The Dark Lord remained seated in his large throne at the head of the table. He felt his mother's worried glance from behind him as she moved away from the table.

Draco mentally recited the wand movements again and again until he was satisfied with his recollection. He folded the thought and shoved it into the depths of his mind, placing the thought within the vines where he kept the memory of his mother's look as he carried Granger's body away—

The Dark Lord's voice penetrated his thoughts and quickly forced him to regain his composure. He listened as he tasked the remaining Death Eaters: himself, his father, Yaxley and Mulciber to visit the Ministry to interrogate some of the witches and wizards captured for protecting muggles after the muggleborn registration was enforced. The Dark Lord was getting impatient with the lack of information on Harry Potter's whereabouts.

"And Draco..." Voldemort drawled his name in an unsettling hiss. Draco stopped where he stood in the door way, the others did as well looking between him and Voldemort. "This is your mission to see through. I know you to be discrete and precise when obtaining memories. I trust your abilities to do so and immediately take them to Severus. Don't disssapoint."

Draco felt the stares of the others upon him. Heated glares of confusion and disgust. The strongest of which fuming from his father.

"Of course my Lord." He nodded once, bowing slightly and turned on his heal to leave the room.

_Anyone who got out of their cells were killed instantly._

Hermione shot forward from where she lay, gasping for breath as she took in her surroundings. Her sights settled on the unfamiliar room, her heart lurching into her throat. She shut her eyes and tried to force the anxious feeling away. The conversation with Malfoy the night before came flooding back, reminding her of everything that was occurring outside of these four walls.

_Killed instantly…_

She shuddered, refusing to let the tears forming in her eyes fall. She shoved herself out of bed, hoping the movement would serve as a welcome distraction from the guilt trying to consume her. It was then that she realized she was wearing something different from what she fell asleep in the night before.

Over the flimsy red nightgown she now wore an oversized cream colored knitted jumper that stopped just above her knees. She was thankful for the extra fabric, as the nightgown alone made her feel entirely too exposed. Glancing down to inspect the jumper, she rolled her eyes upon seeing the small embroidered words that spelled out Malfoy in emerald green, perfectly stitched near her wrist.

She glanced over to where he lay the previous night and felt a light tug of fear in her chest upon noting the small mattress was gone and replaced again with the two wing backed chairs, wondering when he left. Her attention was then immediately brought to the soreness in her muscles from the lingering effects from the torture. She began to stretch the phantom pain in her joints by pacing about the room. Exercise was proven to help brain flow and she needed her mind to work overtime if she was going to save herself from going insane from bring in this room another day.

As she paced around the room she began to mentally organize items that would give her any insight to Malfoy that she may have missed before. Her mind began to toss their conversation from the previous night around in her head, unsettling her when she began to realize that he answered her questions so willingly, albeit sourly— which she expected coming from Malfoy, but he answered them all the same.

Nothing he revealed helped her understand where Harry or Ron ended up, but she determined that was a good thing. If Malfoy didn't know then most likely Voldemort was equally as unaware, making them safe— and for now she couldn't hope for much more than that. She wondered if Malfoy ever did find out where Harry and Ron were if he would he be so willing to share that information with her?

It was still unclear to Hermione how she felt towards the person who saved her life, as he was clearly not the Malfoy she had once known. She felt the difference in his stare, his posture, and every word that hesitantly dripped from his tongue. Much like his features, he was rougher now— no longer the timid shell she remembered from their 6th year at Hogwarts. She wondered what demons he had to face that could have forced him to harden— if they were similar to her own?

The more logical part of her recognized her current situation as Malfoy's secret prisoner for what it could be for _her_: an opportunity. It was fairly easy her to obtain information regarding Voldemort and his interest with experimenting with potions and curses. It was clear that he was planning something far more than just forming an army. Her skin tingled with a mixture of fear and excitement with all the possible information Malfoy could reveal to her.

_After all— what place better to find information on your enemy than in their own liar?_

The excitement provided from her logic overruled her fear of what would happen if anyone within said lair found out she was here.

Another damning thought occurred to her as well she was practically useless while remaining in this room. She was reliant on Malfoy for not only safety, but also any knowledge of what was happening in the world. She wondered if Malfoy already knew this and it was his reason for answering her questions so willingly. _Perhaps he believed she had no way out so what was the consequence of sharing? _

She huffed in frustration as she lifted her fingers to trace them over the many trinkets on one of his many bookshelves.

_Fine._ She ultimately determined. _Let him think that. Le t him believe she is at his mercy. He can believe her to be helpless— people often did and she loved proving them wrong. _

The less logical part of her, the sentimental part that she often tried to ignore during such dark times, sparked a small thought in her brain as she paused to stare at the photo on one of his selves; within the moving photograph was Malfoy and his mother. Malfoy had his arms down by his side, a leather bound book tucked under his arm. His mother had both of her arms wrapped around him and as the photo moved Malfoy slowly lifted his arms to pull his mother into a hug and his usual smirk softened into a rare smile, his mother beaming up at him. Hermione wasn't sure where the photo was taken, but something about the photo made her suddenly aware of how much she hated the sentimental part of her as it reminded her just how fucked up the war was for everyone, including Malfoy.

_Do you think he would have done it? Malfoy? _She asked Harry.

_No. He lowered his wand. Dumbledore offered him safety Hermione. He was going to protect them— him and his mother. I think Draco wanted to trust him—_

Hermione sighed as she remembered her conversation with Harry only a few months ago following Dumbledore's death. If he was considering help from Dumbledore then maybe she could offer something similar if he were to help her get back to Harry. She knew the easiest way out of this room alive would be with Malfoy's help, but she was determined to get out with or without him.

_He saved you. You would leave him to suffer the consequences? Could you really do that… knowing what would happen to him if the Dark Lord knew what he did for you? If it meant you could return to Harry?_

Several moments passed as she stared at the photograph as she considered the thought. She watched as Malfoy's hardened expression morphed into amusement and then utter adoration for the woman he wrapped his arms around. His eyes blinking slowly as if he was hoping to linger in the moment for her forever. His stance slightly hovering over her protectively, his hold firm on her delicate shoulders. She ultimately decided she was unable to answer her own question, which terrified her.

She turned away from the bookshelf and began pacing the length of the large room again, quicker this time. She made her way over to the arched windows, pushing her increasing heart rate to calm in her chest.

She paused and slowly pulled back the curtain slightly, staring out over the vast acres of Malfoy Manor, finding it truly breath taking.

She scanned the grounds, momentarily shocked to see the albino peacocks just below roaming near a small marble fountain. She smiled as she noticed an older elf tossing out seeds near the large birds feet, avoiding their beaks and apparating whenever one would get too close, appearing behind the large bird moments later. She smiled to herself, enjoying the distraction from the deeper worries settling beneath the dark waters of her thoughts. She refused to let them surface. If she did, then she knew she would break; for below the surface lay the memory of her parents— her friends— and the fate of the Wizarding World— and a new fear… it was forming in a small bubble— pushing its way to the surface and that fear was none other than her growing concern for Malfoy.

Hermione grabbed several books from the bedside table and returned to the window, sitting just beneath it. Every now and then when her thoughts would try and take her to the depths she would peek out the window, beyond the small fountain and trace the intricate garden maze— finding solace in the repetitive path. The predictability of it gave her a certain peace that she wouldn't be able to describe if she was asked, but she could feel it.

So, once she traced the hedged mazes path once— she would repeat it again and again until she was sure that she could trace it again if she ever needed to.

_Keep her hidden__..._

_You checked it didn__'__t you__?.. _

_Left to right — upwards loop — right to left — down — flick__..._

_This is your mission to see through__..._

Draco concentrated on each of their words clinging to their own respective vine circling his mind. He was slightly grateful for a distraction from the screams coming from the group of prisoners sitting before him as the other Death Eaters stood before them within one of the Ministries interrogation rooms. His father and Yaxley had their wands lifted at the one of the prisoners, shouting questions with a sense of barbaric entitlement. He wanted to comment on the lack of finesse, but deemed it unnecessary in the end as this was all for show, a display of power for them. The important information was only ever revealed to Draco when he sifted through their minds after his father and Yaxley scared them into weakening their minds defenses.

Draco wished the prisoners would just surrender... or be killed already, anything to save him from remaining in this room with the smell of blood forcing its way into his lungs. He shoved his discomfort aside and waited patiently. He flinched as one of the screams pierced the air around them after his father sent the Cruciatus curse on one of the younger female prisoners. The vicious bloodlust in his father's eyes enraged something within him and he didn't trust himself not to do something reckless. The girl screamed again and Granger's body writhing on his drawing room floor with blood seeping from her arm filled his mind.

Shutting his eyes firmly he began to focus on the tall garden maze, his minds labyrinth, each vine reaching towards the forefront of his mind and he moved them about... making sense of what he had learned in the last twenty four hours.

Snape knew about Granger, though it was clear he didn't intend to expose him, at least not yet. The uncertainty was what worried Draco the most. Before he could gladly pretend that he could keep Granger safely tucked away, but now... it was bluntly obvious that he was only fooling himself into believing that to be true. Now he was forced to think of his true reasons for saving her, keeping her hidden and the underlaying intention of what that decision would ultimately mean for him— what he would eventually be made to do...

Secondly, Bellatrix may have mistakingly revealed something to him that he had also been blind to before. It was her frantic question to his mother earlier that finally made it register somewhere within the recesses of his mind. He felt like slapping himself for missing it before. Bellatrix was worried that Granger had stolen something from her vault and he had the feeling Granger knew exactly what it was. The fact that his mother was sent to check on its condition was reason enough to confirm it worthy of looking into. He was still uncertain what the spell was that his mother was revealing to him, but he knew she needed him to remember it none the less.

He was now more uncertain than ever as to where his decisions were leading him. It was as if everything he ignored all these years seemed to be forcing their way out of hiding and screaming him in the face. He was completely certain it had everything to do with a certain curl haired witch tucked away in his bedroom. He needed clarity. He needed answers. He needed to know everything Hermione Granger knows.

The possibility of someone finding her, hurting her— it had changed something for Draco. The strange sense of needing to protect her was carved into him now somehow and he couldn't ignore it no matter how much he despised himself for it.

Ever since Snape triggered his old memories during their lessons it stirred his awareness of just how often he longed to know more about Granger when he was younger. As he watched his younger self he understood that his hatred for her stemmed from what started as genuine curiosity and disbelief that someone like her could be all the things his father had told him that Mudbloods could never be.

He was told Mudbloods were not equally as intelligent as Purebloods and yet she outranked him in every subject. He was told everyone despised Mudbloods just as much as his family and yet she was surrounded by very capable, highly regarded witches and wizards who deemed her one of the most brilliant witches they'd ever met. He was told Mudbloods would never fully understand how to control their magic because it was never theirs to wield, and yet Hermione Granger was more capable of wielding magic than most adult Purebloods he knew...

His curiosity quickly morphed into a jealous hatred the older he became, her very existence molding into an obstacle for him— an obstacle his father deemed unworthy of even acknowledging as a challenge. He realized now that even at a young age, he always wondered how that could possibly be right.

Everything about her went against all that he was made to believe growing up.

He wondered if that was why he decided to save her in the end— because deep down he knew... he couldn't imagine a world where something as uniquely frustrating as her didn't exist.

Everything he believed about her in the past was tainted by what his father had decided for him to believe, and saving her was the first decision he ever made that was truly his decision. She did that for him, wether she realized it or not.

It was still to be determined if this decision proved worthwhile or inimical, but he wasn't going to dwell on that now.

Lastly, and this was probably the more unsettling of the thoughts circulating his mind at the moment, Voldemort vocally proclaimed him as leader of this mission; subsequently setting him apart from his father, above him within the ranks— and he did so publicly— in his fathers own home.

The Dark Lord would be more reliant on him now, trusting him with more. This presented an onslaught of misfortunate issues, especially considering he was now considering what he would need to do if Snape ever revealed his secret. He hadn't risked everything so far just to be killed and Granger found. No, he was very aware of the tides shifting and he knew he needed to be prepared, but he couldn't manage to think of it as real enough to make a plan. If he began planning then it would make it real and he would have to consider what would happen to his mother—

A gut-wrenching scream jolted his mind back to the present where he up to see Yaxley smiling grimly at him.

"You're turn, Lord Malfoy."

The title was meant as a jab at Draco as much as it was to his father, who visibly tensed but said nothing, stepping aside for Draco to begin searching the prisoners of their thoughts.

None of the first four prisoners had any memories of value where Potter was concerned and he was beginning to be thankful for that until he stopped in front of the last chair. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed that he recognized the last prisoner.

The tall, pale man had bright red hair, his shoulders slightly slouched, and his clothes were either worn everyday of his life or handed down and shared between family members— clearly a Weasley.

Draco studied him as he sat slumped slightly, a large gash across his cheek and neck. He was glaring at Draco and leaned forward and spit darted directly onto Draco's face. Draco lifted his wand and the ropes around the Weasley's chest and hands tightened, causing him to wince in pain. Draco scorgified his face and conjured a muzzle. He could feel the other Death Eaters watching now and promptly played along, though he wasn't too proud to admit he would enjoy restraining the man for spitting on his face and for being related to Potter's Weasel on principal.

He sneered down at the red head and clasped the muzzle over his mouth.

"Fitting— a muzzle for the Weasel," Malfoy snarled through gritted teeth and he heard the others snickering in laughter, watching with amusement. He paused before extracting his memories. He knew if he was going to learn anything on Potters whereabouts then it would very well be from a Weasley.

It only took a half of a minute to penetrate the wizards lousy attempt to keep him out of his mind. He could feel the older Weasley resist, but he had no idea how lethal Draco could be when it came to mentally invading someones mind.

Draco paused as images of Gringotts and the Weasley shuffling through papers flashed before him caught his attention. Draco would have moved on quickly from the memory had it not been for the perfectly written signature on one of the forms that Draco recognized immediately. The Weasley was starring down at Narcissa Malfoy's signature on the visitor log of Gringott's. Draco furrowed his brow and tried to concentrate on the image, but seemed to be pushed away as the memory moved forward. The next image Draco saw before him was the Weasley hastily lifting his wand as several officers chased after him through the streets outside of Gringott's. Draco followed the hazy memory quickly only hardly making out the words of the redhead long enough to see a bright jet of light stream from his wand, producing a rather large patronous.

_Harry. Narcissa Malfoy. She was the last person to visit Bellatrix's vault. I won't be able to return to the cottage. Tell Fleur to change the enchantments. She knows what to do. I'm sorry Harry. Ron. Tell Fleur I love her._

The scene before him quickly faded into another as the officers closed in on Weasley. Draco tucked the information of what he just revealed to him about his mother and continued through the shifting images.

He felt his heart jump into his throat as he landed on a memory with a raven haired boy with glasses and a red lighting bolt scar on his forehead... _Potter_. He focused all his concentration to appear passive to the others observing him.

Weasley fought with everything he had to shove Draco out of this particular memory, but it was too late. Draco had full access to the memory now and could sense the heavy tension in the air as Bill sat in a small cottage and then jumped to his feet upon seeing a bloodied Harry and Ron, a small creature hanging limply in Potter's arms, covered by a thin sheet, bursting through a door.

Potter was crying, no, he was wailing and Draco had to force himself to not roll his eyes at his dramatics. Then something registered with Draco. He was wearing the same clothes that he wore when he arrived at the Manor. He focused more intently, watching as the Ron began shouting something. He pieced together a timeline and tucked it away to examine later. He tried not to cringe at the annoying voice ringing through the hazy memory.

_WE_ _HAVE _ _TO_ _GO _ _BACK _ _HARRY__! __WE _ _CAN__'__T_ _LEAVE _ _HER _ _THERE__! __SHE_ _NEEDS _ _US__!_

A woman— a beautifully elegant woman, moved to comfort Harry. Draco suddenly tensed realizing who she was, Fleur Delacour. She laid a hand on Harry's arm where he was holding something small— something bloody. Draco's breath caught as he noticed the dagger laying next to Harry, forgotten on the cottage floor. _Bellatrix's knife. _

_HARRY_ _WE _ _HAVE _ _TO _ _GO_ _BACK__! __SHE__'__S_ _STILL _ _ALIVE__! __I__-__I_ _KNOW_ _SHE _ _IS__! __MERLIN__, __S__-__SHE_ _HAS _ _TO_ _BE__! __TELL_ _ME_ _S__-__SHE__'__S_ _ALIVE— _

Draco saw a Goblin enter the room, watching with a scowl on his face, eyeing the small body in Harry's arms with a skeptical frown. Draco recognized Griphook immediately, knowing he had been locked in the dungeons with Lovegood at one point.

The Weasley, whose mind Draco was currently in and he know knew to be Bill Weasley, the Curse Breaker, was moving towards Ron in the memory.

_Ron__, __calm_ _down__. __Who__? __Who _ _are _ _you_ _talking _ _about__?_

The look on Weasley's face twisted something in Draco's stomach, but he ignored it already knowing whose name would escape the ginger's lips.

_HERMIONE__! _

Ron wailed and then lost his voice through heavy breaths. The next time he spoke his voice was a raspy, desperate drawn out whisper as he grabbed Bill's collar tightly.

_WE LEFT HER__. __They_ _tortured _ _her__! __Her _ _blood__, __Bill__! __It_ _wasn__'__t_ _stopping— They__'__re _ _going _ _to_ _do _ _so _ _much _ _worse _ _if _ _we _ _don__'__t _ _go_ _back__! __They__'__ll _ _kill_ _her__! Her blood w-was_— EVERYWHERE!

_Who__?!_

_Malfoy__! __She__'__s _ _at _ _Malfoy_ _Manor__! __Bellatrix— What _ _if_ _they_ _summon _ _You__-__Know__-__Who__! __He__'__ll _ _torture _ _her _ _for_ _information _ _on _ _Harry__! __WE_ _HAVE _ _TO _ _DO _ _SOMETHING__! _

Bill's face was completely void of color now as he tried to stop his brother from falling to the floor. He grabbed Ron's wand and wrapped his arms around his brother, leaning back to place his hands firmly on either side of his face, speaking calmly.

_We__'__ll get Hermione back__. __I swear it__. __She__'__ll survive this__. __She will__. __She__'__s strong__. __She won__'__t let them break her__. __Tell me what you need me to do__._

Draco knew his heart was beating now, watching it all play out. He wondered if the others could hear it thumping loudly in his chest. Potter's shaky intake of breath caught his attention and he suddenly realized he had been mumbling something to himself the entire memory. Draco leaned closer trying to hear what he was saying only vaugely hearing him through the desperately ragged breaths.

_It's my fault— __Mione_— _It's a-all my fault_— _I'm s-so s-sorry 'Mione__—_

He couldn't stay in this memory any longer. The twist in his stomach tightened. He decided he had seen enough and pulled away with a vicious yank. He extracted every memory, avoiding that particular one for Snape's inventory, and placed them in a vial. He straightened immediately, hiding any trace of emotion from the others watching him.

"Go on and take the others. I'll handle this one and then head straight to Hogwarts."

The others hesitated and Draco shot an icy look at them, even his father.

"Have you forgotten who the Dark Lord put in charge here?!"

He placed every ounce of venom in his voice and after another beat they reluctantly did as they were told. He lifted his eyes from the vial to meet his fathers gaze as he stood near the door, his fingers on the latch. Draco held his stare before lifting his chin slightly, waiting...

"I hope you know what you're doing son."

Draco didn't let his expression falter as he father lingered another moment before turning his back and leaving Draco standing alone with the Weasley. Ignoring the tingling sensation in the gaping hole in his stomach from his father's words, he lifted his wand and returned to the same memory, lingering on the parts he missed and paused as something clicked inside his mind.

In the memory Draco watched as the Griphook watched the entire scene play out. The small creatures beady eyes seemed to be searching for something, with a dissatisfied expression laced on his pointy features. Draco concentrated on the Goblin once more, replaying the memory. He knew Weasley was getting faint now and the memory was loosing its clarity. Draco yanked himself away again and forced his mind to recall everything he knew about the Goblin— he could feel that the Goblin was answer to a question he hadn't asked himself yet. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he could feel the creatures connection to something he was missing.

He took a step away and smirked down at the now half-conscious redhead, who was still trying to glare at him in disgust.

"Sorry about this Weasley. You'll thank me one day..." He mumbled and the Weasley's face scrunched in confusion and Draco shrugged. "Maybe not... Obliviate."


	7. Intruder & Covered Tracks

Hi, thank you to those who have reviewed this story. It's helped me stay inspired. I've been away in Switzerland last week and wasn't able to post, but I've made this chapter extremely long to make up for that! (like seriously 9k+ words) Please review and let me know what you think!

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It was raining, which was slightly inconvenient for Draco at the moment as he trudged through the heavily dense tall grass. He was grateful for the difficulty to find the safe house he tasked Theo to prepare in case things turned for the worse, but it didn't make it any less frustrating as his black dragon leather shoes were covered in filth. He supposed it was important for no one to be able to apparate within 50 miles of the safe house and that he should remember to recognize Theo's thorough precaution.

He took the final steps through the buzzing invisible magical barrier knowing once he stepped through a large abandoned manor house would reveal itself to him.

Once inside he quickly scourgified the dirt from his clothing and quickly shuffled through the foyer and large living area to enter the room he was looking for. This was only his second time visiting the safe house and he wasn't afforded much time to throughout admire the small details Theo put in either time— he wondered if he would ever come across a day where he wasn't forced to rush through his duties while also attempting to cover up whatever utterly idiotic heroic attempts he made to help him ignore his increasing self hatred.

He took a step through the large wooden door, impressed to find the large kitchen with a marble island in the center vastly transformed into something resembling a potions lab. He shrugged his robes off and flicked his wrist, glancing momentarily to see them float over to an empty coat rack. His eyes scanned the cauldrons upon the marble counter and pulled out his wand to begin checking on their progress.

Draco was thankful for the additional safe house now more than ever as he needed to keep Bill Weasley from being seen after kidnapping him from the Ministry. He glanced over his shoulder where the red head was laying unconscious and grimaced. It wasn't as if he could take him back to his Manor to join Granger— that would be only _slightly_ worse than only having her there. He sighed as he ran his hands over his cheeks in frustration. _Before he knew it, he would be responsible for hiding half of the Order members._

He stopped pacing as he noticed the cauldron on the counter bein to simmer into the silver color he was aiming for. Luckily, the potions had been brewing for days now thanks to Blaise's efforts. With a lift of his wand the liquid began to pour into several separate vials and stopper themselves. He watched until the last of the batch was emptied and he placed them within the small brown satchel. He glanced at the clock across the room— two hours to midnight now.

He began the adding the appropriate ingredients into the cauldron, he wasn't sure when he would be able to return so he made two weeks worth of extra potions for Granger and then left the portions to simmer, levitating Weasley's body behind him until they entered the living area. He placed him down on the black leather sofa and sat on the arm chair next to it. For a moment he was tempted to simply close his eyes and get a minute of rest, his mind currently over worked and his body equally as tired, but he was never one to put off something that would surely have unbearable consequences if not dealt with immediately.

He shut his eyes and gripped his wand tightly in his hand focusing on the memories revealed to him, lifting them and placing the important ones back into the mind of the unconscious wizard before him. It was a difficult process and one he wasn't entirely confident would work as he had only seen his mother use this form of Legillimency.

He opened his eyes after several hours of attempting to replace the important memories. To replace all of them would take months. He stood to his feet, feeling equal parts miserable and annoyed with himself for ever deciding this would be worth it. He pulled the vial of Veriasatum from his pocket and tipped it into Weasley's mouth. He lifted his wand and ropes extended around Weasley's shoulders and feet, keeping him restrained. Then he inhaled deeply before reviving him.

"Renneverate."

Slowly the read head began to shift his head to the side and lift as his eyes, adjusted to the light and the room he was in with narrowed eyes. He breathed in and then glanced down at the ropes and then up at Malfoy.

"Bill Weasley."

Draco said calmly, remembering the way his mother had done something similar when she practiced a similar memory reversal. His mother's instructions clear in his mind: _It's important to keep the details brief Draco. They don't need more information than the basic facts to recall the information you need._

Draco rolled his shoulders back as Weasley stared at him, mouth opening and then shutting again clearly unable to piece together much thought.

"You work at Gringotts as a curse-breaker. I found you searching through the visitors log. Tell me why you were there."

Weasley's eyes widened and then began to struggle against the ropes.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

_They'll want answers. You have to remember that their memories only contain information surrounding the memory you replanted, you mustn't give them more information or the memories you need will not stick. They need to be the one to fill in the details for it to truly take hold. Repeat your question. Use very few words and keep your questions short. _

"Tell me why you were there." Draco repeated.

"I-I… I don't— I don't know." He struggled to form a thought as he shook his head and glanced around the room again. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"Why were you at Gringotts?"

"I told you—" Bill stopped suddenly, glancing up at Draco swallowing once. "I think I was searching for something— or-or maybe I was asked to go there? No— I volunteered."

"Volunteered?"

"Yes." The read head began bobbing his head enthusiastically like he was certain of what he was saying and enjoying having something to confirm.

"Volunteered for who?"

"H-Harry." Bill said, the name sounding thick in his throat. Bill swallowed again, his face becoming pale. "Harry Potter a-and Ron! Ron— m-my brother."

"What did you find?"

He looked like he didn't want to answer the question, but the potion was forcing the words out for him.

"A name. I was looking for information for them— or maybe a person? I sent them a message. Did they get it? It was important for them to get it— I think. They were trying to save someone and they were looking for something that may have been in a vault…"

"What were they looking for in the vault?" Draco had to clinch his fists knowing this was the missing piece to everything he needed. It was the same information he knew Granger was keeping for herself. It was what his aunt had tortured her for and what his mother was apparently checking on at Gringotts.

"I-I'm not sure. They never told me what they were doing. After my wedding the three of them disappeared a-and just— my wedding! Where is my wife?"

Draco watched his eyes grow wide with worry and Draco clenched his jaw feeling the air tighten in his lungs. _He didn't know. Draco had risked taking him from the Ministry for answers and he didn't bloody know ANYTHING!_

Draco sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, sitting back down on the arm chair across from Bill who was still rambling questions towards him.

Draco lifted his head, pulling the small vial containing the rest of Bill's memories and twisted it in his fingers. He had to decide what to do with him now. There was a long pause as Bill seemed to understand that Draco had no interest in answering his questions. He was breathing heavily watching Draco with an anxiousness in his features.

Draco sighed and shut his eyes tight, "Fuck."

Bill watched as Draco lifted his wand and the vial in his hand transformed into a necklace and the ropes around him fell to the ground. Draco tossed the necklace to him.

"Put this on." Draco said flatly, moving to his feet. "Never take it off. You'll need it after all of this is over."

Draco waited as Bill's shaky hands lifted the necklace containing the memories of who he was and wrapped it around hid neck. The moment it clasped around his neck Draco pointed his wand, "Stupefy."

Draco felt his legs fall back into the seat once more, exhaustion attempting to over come him— the pepper up potions were losing their effects and sooner or later he would just need to sleep. He shut his eyes and began shifting the information around in his mind. Vines crawled out, heavy and the ones involving Potter completely covered in thorns for anyone who attempted to grab hold of those.

_Potter and Weasley were safe in some kind of cottage, possibly near the sea— the Goblin that Bellatrix summoned to confirm the supposed stolen sword as real or fake was with them and he didn't seem too thrilled about it either— Bill Weasley went to Gringotts for information; what for was still very unclear but he was able to send word to Potter to alert him— his mother had made a visit to Gringotts— Bellatrix's vault— _

His thoughts immediately shifted too Granger and their short conversation, wondering if she knew why Weasley would chance getting captured just to see who visited his aunt's vault. Draco knew Granger wouldn't trust him if he just asked her outright. It was fairly obvious that she was holding back information from him, but he figured that was to be expected. She was more clever than that— to her Draco was simply keeping her alive for his own gain. She believed herself to be a safety net in case the side he was currently on lost.

He didn't allow himself the displeasure of admitting that was entirely not the case— or that he needed her more than she needed him. If he let her go she would survive and he would still be stuck in his life. Powerless without purpose. A puppet to a tyrant.

There was always the option to force her to talk. It would be entirely too easy to invade her mind with an easy flick of his wrist, but the thought of doing anything to make her not trust him unsettled him; a feeling that was completely foreign to him.

_So how does one win Hermione Granger over?_

His mouth twitched into smirk as it only took a matter of seconds to know the answer. He walked into the kitchen turned potion lab and snapped his fingers once and the sound of a 'pop' resounded around him.

"Master, Mink is needed?"

"Yes," Draco said as he lifted a small brown satchel filled with potions and handed it over to Mink. "These should last for the next week or so. I'm not sure when I'll be able to check in— also…"

The small elf reached for the satchel and held it tightly nodding. Mink watched as Draco conjured a small piece of parchment and began writing something. The small elf giggled causing Draco to pause to frown down at her.

"Is Master drawing Mink like Master did when he was small?"

A slow smirk spread on his lips.

"Mink loved Masters drawings, though the other elves say Master made Mink's ears too long."

"The ears? Really? I doubt that." Draco mused and then tilted his head slightly. "You kept my old sketches?"

The small elf nodded vigorously.

"Oh— of course." Mink snapped her fingers and a small piece of parchment appeared in her hand and she lifted it up for Draco to see. "Mink be keeping it above her bed in the attic. It's Minks favorite."

Mink turned the portrait towards herself and hugged it tightly. Draco couldn't help but breath a small laugh as he looked at his twelve year old selfs portrait of a younger Mink, indeed the ears slightly larger than reality.

"Hm, that's—" he quickly shook himself of the feeling of being with his mother in the gardens, drawing while she tended to the gardens. The memory now felt tainted with what became of his reasons for learning to draw— to shield his mind. Drawing soon became a place to hide his secrets— his nightmares— often one in the same.

He cleared his throat and finished the list he was making and handed it over to Mink, who quickly scanned the parchment with a worried expression in her large green eyes. Draco knew she couldn't understand it and quickly placed a translation charm as well as a summoning charm on the parchment that would activate once she returned to the Manor.

The small elf looked up from the parchment, "What is Mink to do with this?"

"Take it to the library in the Manor. The summoning charm will know the titles I've written and reveal themselves to you. I need you to deliver them to Granger. If anyone asks you tell them I requested them from my chambers."

"Of course, sir." The elf bowed and looked over the list again, but she didn't leave. Draco shifted his weight from one foot to the other and rolled his eyes knowing the elf was nervous to ask him whatever it was that was on her mind.

"What is it Mink?"

"Well—" Mink rubbed her hands together nervously, not meeting his stare. "Miss, is sometimes… well— Miss often asking Mink for answers and Mink is not knowing what to say when Miss asks so many questions— Miss is very kind to Mink— Mink doesn't want to upset Master, but Miss be insisting for Mink to tell her—"

"Just tell her I suggested the books— to help keep her mind occupied." Draco said cutting the small elf off. "That's all she needs to know for now."

Draco sighed imagining a very stubborn Granger torturing the small elf with her irritating questions, oddly amused by the thought as the witch was very distinctly against elf cruelty.

Draco knew that if he couldn't take the time to look deeper into his instincts then Granger surely could. Plus, he hoped she would see this as a form of an olive branch and in turn allow him the privilege to ask her questions when he returned. Again, forfeiting himself the displeasure to linger on the thought that he also hoped it would help her hate being his prisoner a little less.

* * *

Snape stood tall next to Narcissa Malfoy as they both glanced down at the pensive in his small living room on Spinner's End. Narcissa was watching with a tight expression and then turned her head to look up at him. He noticed the lack of surprise and frowned knowing the meaning of it. He turned away and sat across from his fire place, eyes focused on nothing.

"So," He drawled keeping his gaze from hers. She continued to stand with her hands behind her back. "You have known all along…"

It wasn't a question. Narcissa waited until Snape focused his bored expression on her.

"I have known since the moment my son decided to take his fate in his own hands. Yes."

He lifted his brow slightly, "And you did not think to stop him?"

Narcissa was silent as she glanced away from his dark gaze and focused on the fire behind him.

Snape seemed to be remembering something before he spoke, "He cares for her. He has for years now without even being aware that he was suppressing those feelings all this time— disguising the feelings as hatred, lying even to himself… I've seen it in his memories. "

Narcissa felt her lips twitch, surpressing a small smile.

"Interesting, isn't it Severus?" She looked at him then. "My pureblood son falling for a muggleborn. Perhaps history is attempting to right itself this time around."

Snape said nothing, but Narcissa could sense his distaste for the comparison.

"You seem certain that this decision will not, in fact, be the reason he looses his life."

"The stars say otherwise." Narcissa said simply.

Snape scoffed. "You've been commiserating with Firenze I see."

"The centaurs were right about the Potter boy and I believe they are correct now."

"What rubbish have they convinced you of this time?"

Narcissa glanced at the fire again as she spoke. **"Fairness so bright, paler than light, seeking refuge, but lacking sight— in a crimson pool he will stand, protecting a life near its end— the answer seen in her reflection, to reveal an allegiance of Power need be shifted." **

She repeated the words like a nursery rhyme. As if she had repeated the words to herself every day, committing it to memory. "They say the cause of the stars shifting was a Dragon. The shift happened the night Draco decided to save Hermione Granger's life. The crimson pool— I was there as he stood in her blood. They told me this prophecy the night before the Potter boy and his friends arrived at my home." She turned her determined expression to meet Snape's narrowed eyes. "I believe every word."

Snape's concentrated gaze twitched and Narcissa smiled.

"You feel it too, don't you?"

"An allegiance of Power need be shifted?" Snape repeated, more to himself.

Narcissa nodded watching as the paleness in his features seemed to be focused on piecing a thought together.

Snape stood to his feet. He wrapped his robes around his tall slender frame and there was a long pause as the two old friends stared at one another, feeling the weight of the time around them darkening.

"I will do what I can to protect him."

Narcissa nodded once, knowing their conversation was done. She didn't need to thank him. He owed her his life as she has helped him remain a pawn for both sides, helping him keep his secret from Voldemort; and though she believed he would have helped her either way, she enjoyed the certainty of having the upper hand on such a influential figure in the war. She nodded again and left him alone standing in his drafty living room on Spinner's End.

The moment she was gone Snape moved to the other side of the room to return to his pensive, her words still replaying in his mind. **An allegiance of Power need be shifted. **The moment he heard those words a light seemed to flicker within his mind and he knew exactly who had said those exact words. He dripped a memory into the pensive and dipped his head lower until he was standing in a memory with Albus Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower, days before his death.

"This is where it will happen."

Snape watched the old man pace slowly as he watched the sun slowly sink under the horizon. His grey hair blowing softly as the wind wipped around him and his long grey robes. Albus slowly turned to look over his shoulder, a smile upon his face.

"Not too dreadful of a view is it Severus?"

"I suppose there are worst places to die." Snape drawled out, not interested in pretending he cared for the view at all.

The old man was silent for a moment as he hummed his response and continued to take in the setting sun.

"There will be an allegiance shift once I am gone. The boy will not know what Power he holds... until he does."

Snape remembered listening to the words, but the Headmaster never explained his reasons for saying them. Instead, he turned to ask Severus to join him for dinner as if he had never spoken at all. Snape pulled out of the memory and replayed the words in his mind.

**Allegiance shift — the boy will not know what Power he holds until he does —**

Snape began pacing thinking of the prophecy from the centaurs, hoping to make sense of the words.

**The answer seen in her reflection —**

Snape stopped pacing then. He sighed and glanced at the fire crackling before him. He grimaced as he thought of the irony in his revelation — "Miss Granger has the answer— isn't that just wonderfully..._ predictable_."

* * *

After dismissing Mink from the safe house, Draco hurried to return to Hogwarts. It was only an hour until midnight and he still needed to meet with Blaise and Theo to prepare for the full moon, which had quickly become one of Draco's more dreaded events he never looked forward to— only slightly better than his mother's monthly recruitment parties. He was slowly stalking through the corridor when he felt a tingling vibration crawl inside his skin. At first he thought it was the Dark Mark, but this feeling was different than being summoned— this feeling reminded him of the warmth of bright light that escaped Dumbledore's tomb the night Voldemort took his wand.

Draco shuddered as a chilling sensation burned him to his core. The warmth from the bright light beneath his skin seemed to be summoning him towards the East hall. He quickly followed it as the warmth overpowered the chilling pain the closer he got. He stopped abruptly as his eyes fell on the entrance to the Headmasters quarters, the gargoyle opened and waited for him to enter. Draco glanced around the hall until he knew he was completely alone. He cast a quick revealing spell and his wand blazed white, indicating the office was empty.

No longer aware of his feet moving forward, he felt himself being twirled into the air as the staircase lifted him up until he was standing inside the Headmasters office.

The tingling sensation crept across his skin, vibrating and awakening the magic flowing in his veins, pulling him towards the large black cabinet to his right. He wasn't aware he had reached out to grab the handle until he realized it was locked.

One of the portraits above him 'tsk'ed in disapproval, and Draco silenced him wandlessly ignoring the man in the portrait as he began to pout, soundlessly ranting above him.

It took Draco at least twenty minutes to break the wards on the cabinet. All the while completely uncertain as to why he was even trying. The moment he lifted the last ward he began moving stacks of parchment around, shifting books, and random trinkets until the warmth of a different type of magic filtered from his finger tips involuntarily and then began coiling around a small black box. The warm magic began to fade from his veins as it coiled around the box and then disappeared completely.

Draco lightly ran his fingers along the edged of the small box, examining it for any clue as to why it wanted to be found. He frowned upon realizing there was no entrance into the small box. The sound of the portrait bellowing above him quickly made him realize where he was and that he had no reason to be here. He tucked the box into his robes and rewarded the large black cabinet.

He exited the Headmaster's office and hurried through the halls as silently as he could. He stopped in front of an abandoned classroom and looked down the hall twice before slipping inside, locking the doors and warding them to alert him when anyone came close to the door. He shoved his robes off and tossed them on an abandoned table, hurrying to the window and cracked it open slightly. Every inch of him was on fire from exhaustion. He quickly tucked the thought of the warm magic and the mystery box away within his labyrinth, too tired to attempt to sort through yet another vague unknown addition to his ever complicated puzzles that needed to be solved. He leaned his hands on the window pane and let the breeze flow into the room and across his face. It calmed him for only a moment before his skin began to tingle and he knew someone was standing outside the door. He hurried over and opened it quickly upon recognizing the two hooded forms.

"Everything you two will need is set up right over there." Draco said as they entered the room, nodding to the table near the window. He knew they didn't have much time to waste. "I've brewed some additional pepper-up potions for each of us to take to make sure there's no room for error this time—"

"Well hello to you too." Theo grumbled, hiding a yawn behind his wrist.

Draco ignored him and moved over to the table where each of their prepared bags were and tossed them over for Blaise and Theo to catch.

"I'll need one of you to deliver the last batch of potions to Daphne when it's over and I won't be able to get another batch started so if one of you can find time to swing by the safe house tomorrow that would—"

"Draco, mate. Slow down." Blaise said as he watched Draco pace back and forth with his arms firmly across his chest. "We know what to expect this time."

Draco tried to let that thought relax him, but he was finding it very difficult to reason with himself.

"Right." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. I'm just—

"Having a mental breakdown?" Theo supplied evenly, wrapping the bag across his chest. He smiled as Draco shot him a tight grimace. "Lovegood wanted me to tell you thanks by the way for sending me to remove the locket. Once I took it off she seemed a little... unsettled, but happy to know you were looking out for her. I stayed with her that night under a disillusionment charm."

Draco nodded and instantly felt like vomiting as the thought of Luna's predicament resurfaced in his mind. He hurried to place the vine back into place shutting his eyes tighter. He opened his eyes after a moment and nodded at Theo. "That's great. Thank you."

"You did something stupid, didn't you?" Blaise asked, noticing Draco's tense shoulders and darkened expression.

"Something as stupid as saving Granger's life and hiding her in his room for safe keeping?" Theo scoffed. "I'd love to see him try and top that."

The image of Bill Weasley unconscious and tied up at the safe house flashed before his eyes and then quickly shifted away.

Draco shook his head, "It's not worth worrying over right now."

Blaise held his stare and Draco rolled his eyes, knowing he wouldn't let it go. He glanced at the clock and then out the window where the moon was almost fully lifted in the sky.

_Forty-five minutes—_

"Fine." He tossed his hand up in surrender and leaned against the desk behind him, needing the support, not realizing how exhausted he truly was until that moment. "It's Potter. One of the prisoners had information on where he went after the night he arrived at the Manor."

Both of his friends shared a quick glance.

"So you know where he is?" Blaise asked.

"Not exactly." Draco explained. "But I think I could figure out. I just haven't had time to really sort through what I saw. I came straight here after the interrogations and cleaning up the mess with keeping the information out of the wrong hands."

"And where is said information now?" Theo asked.

"I buried it."

"Buried it how?" Theo asked.

"I just— it's handled, alright? I can tell you the rest of it later, but we need to make sure were prepared for tonight. If the Dark Lord notices the small gap in time between the Ministry and bringing the memories from the prisoners here—" He shook the thought from his mind and inhaled deeply. "I just need to focus on one thing right now before my head explodes. Daphne is my main priority right now." He lifted his left hand where his silver ring wrapped around his pinky, "Right, so... remember to use the rings to notify me for any trouble. One tap for danger, two—"

"To signify job well done." Theo finished, smirking. "Not our first time, mate."

"Alright then, you both have everything you need. I'll go get Daphne and meet you at the center of the forest."

Draco nodded once, looking over his friends and turned on his heal to leave, but Theo's voice stopped him.

"What about Pansy?"

Draco turned around pausing by the door, "She's with the pack... with Greyback—" Draco turned and felt his skin crawl the moment he spoke the beastly mans name. "—tonights initiation…. another round of recruitments from Russia arriving and the entire pack was summoned. I had to force her to go. She— well, she's doesn't exactly love me right now— but, if she didn't show…"

"He'd search her out... leading him straight to Daph." Theo finished for him and Draco nodded.

They all knew how much Pansy wanted to be with them to help Daphne through her first transformation, but he knew her desire to keep her safe and to remain a secret from Greyback was even more important to her. Draco could still feel the tingling across his cheek where she had slapped him as he refused to allow her to see Daphne.

He shoved that thought away and tossed back the pepper up potion hoping it would take effect sooner rather than later.

Blaise seemed to be considering something for a moment as he eyed Draco.

"Are you planning to inform Granger about Potter?"

Draco felt his shoulders tense, pausing the moment his Occlumency walls wavered as thoughts of her swarmed his mind.

He shoved the vines of her back into place firmly. He needed sleep and he needed it soon. His Occlumency skills seemed to be weakening where Hermione Granger was concerned and the added disadvantage of exhaustion didn't help.

Draco had relented inwardly that he would have to tell her some version of the truth the moment he sent Mink to take her books.

There was no need to keep that hidden from either of his best friends. He was certain if shit ever hit the fan and he was killed or something he would need them to know as much as possible to keep her safe. As if reading his thoughts Blaise smirked up at him, and tossed his hand up lazily brushing Theo's shoulder.

"Bloody hell, Nott— Our boy here has gone soft for Granger—," Blaise's smirk grew wider as he cheekily added, "—or should I say _hard_ for Granger?"

Theo scoffed and then saw the discomfort radiating from Draco's tense body and the heat in his stare. Theo's eyes shot open wide and he gasped, "No— Don't tell me— Did she let you fu—"

"STOP! JUST FUCKING SHUT UP IMMEDIATELY— BOTH OF YOU!" Draco shouted, regretting ever saying a word to them ever in his entire life. _Ever_.

He was fairly certain his conflicting emotions towards the witch trapped in his room were not to be made sense of with his two annoyingly witty friends in a dusty old classroom— besides it was hardly on his list of priorities at the moment.

"You know, I've heard, the smart ones are always the most frisky in bed— come to think of it— I think I heard a rumor that Granger's kind of dominating— you know, which makes since with the whole 'swotty- know-it-all' vibe she gives off— Could be kinky? You could make her give you a blow job for every 'O' you get on your N.E.W.T.S." Theo wiggled his eye brow at Draco, leaning towards Blaise who just shook his head laughing softly. Draco turned on his heel quickly, disappearing behind the wooden door without another word.

* * *

Hermione spent the next day reviewing the books on Malfoy's shelves. They were vastly different genres than the ones she found in the small hidden room. She wondered if everything Malfoy had ever been genuinely interested had to be tucked away or hidden, all the while displaying a false facade of self importance.

Most of the books were surprisingly useful, helping her brush up on some of her healing techniques and potion antidotes. Some titles she noticed were special editions that she knew probably cost a fortune. A small part of her was shamelessly excited to know she would be exposed to a book she would have never found within the shelves of the Hogwarts library. She wondered if Malfoy had any interest in being a healer or possibly a curse breaker. She imagined he could be anything he wanted after learning of all the things he was capable of doing in the last few weeks— to be able to come up with a way to slow the effects of an unknown incurable curse is impressive enough to walk into the Ministry and earn a spot on the intern registry of Unspeakable's who work in the Experimental and Discovery department.

The thought suddenly reminded her of how unlikely it would be for her to dream of a similar future with how things were looking at the moment, shoving the tiny relief of excitement from reading away with the rest of her happier thoughts.

She was saving his journals for another day. She wasn't sure when Malfoy would return and she dreaded to know what would happen if he caught her looking through them. Mink sent her a small tray of food and lingered longer than she usually did one night. Hermione noticed the small elf rubbing her hands together, nervously glancing around the room.

"Mink," Hermione asked, placing her spoon down on the tray and kneeled before the elf. "Is everything alright?"

The elf tilted her small head up, her large eyes widening as Hermione examined her closely.

"I-It's Master…" the small elf started. "He is wanting to give Miss a gift, but Mink is wondering if Miss will not want a gift from Master be-because Miss is not liking Master a-and—"

"Mink!" Hermione cut in quickly, "Slow down. I-I don't _not_ like Mal— your Master, he's well, perfectly tolerable considering the circumstances I suppose, but anyway— what is it you were saying about a gift?"

"Master is wanting Miss to keep her mind occupied." The elf snapped her fingers and beside Hermione appeared a collection of books, at least twenty of them. Hermione's heart fluttered as she found her fingers quickly picking them up and scanning the titles. Her brow furrowed in concentration and slight confusion wondering if the books had any type of correlation.

"Malfoy chose these?"

The elf nodded her head quickly as a large grin spread across her features.

Hermione's attention settled on the five collection of the smaller books all pertaining to Goblins. _The Great Goblin War, Goblin's Magical Impact on the Wizarding World, The Fall of the Last Great Goblin, Magical Restrictions for Goblins_… She felt her breath catch as her fingers traced the last title — _Gringotts and the History of its Impenetrable Security._

She glanced to the other texts finding most mentioning either dark magic or blood curses, surely to help her understand her current curse. She wondered if these were some of the texts Malfoy read to help him begin creating the counter curse. Her eyes stopped on the last book, the largest of the scattered pile on the floor: Hogwarts: A History.

The corners of her lips curled into a faint smile and she looked over at the elf who was beaming at her reaction.

"Miss likes what Master has chosen?" Mink asked tentatively.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "I am very pleased. Thank you Mink."

"Miss enjoys reading as much as Master?" The small elf jumping a little as she asked. "Master has been reading almost every book since he was young. Masters favorite room is being the library. Master be spending his summers alone with books, books, and more books. Mink enjoys bringing Master books. Mink can bring Miss books too?"

"Oh, um—" Hermione cleared her throat, slightly amused and intrigued with the information the small elf shared about Malfoy. "Yes, I would like that very much."

"Mink will ask Master. Mink would be very happy to share Master's books with Miss."

The elf seemed overwhelmed at first, but quickly began taking a few steps back mumbling something about asking Malfoy for permission and then disappeared with a crack.

Hermione couldn't place the small lightness inside her chest that sparked to life as she scanned over the books in front of her. She felt… rejuvenated— like there was a new sense of purpose given to her and she was determined to understand the meaning of the books Malfoy provided for her. She had been forcing her mind to repress so many heavy thoughts over the past few weeks and now it was like she could allow her mind to be put back to work again. She welcomed the distraction as the smell of new and old parchment wafted towards her lingering in the air around her, comforting her like a lost friend's embrace.

Several hours passed as midnight turned into morning and morning turned into midnight once more. Hermione only paused her research to use the restroom, to eat and for a short time she found herself drawn to the window again to scan over the gardens below. For a few hours she even attempted to remember any song she knew on the piano in the corner of Malfoy's room. The pianos keys seemed worn and Hermione wondered if he spent hours before the piano. The thought felt comforting almost and she forgot to question why thinking of him playing the piano brought a smile to her face.

The pain from the curse came in waves, though the potions seemed to stop the worst of the pain. The texts Malfoy had given her regarding blood curses only worried her so she stopped reading them. Most of the stories and instances of similar blood curses to hers ended poorly, either by draining a witch or wizard of their magic so that the curse no longer had anything to cling to or death. It wasn't exactly helping her vast list of fears within her mind.

When she finally got around to re-reading Hogwarts a History she thought she should try to sleep, which she soon realized was near impossible. The longer she waited for Malfoy to return, the more she realized how fragile her existence was by remaining here. She tried to not to think of what would happen to her if something happened to Malfoy.

She suddenly felt sick. The images of him returning nights before covered in blood flooded into her mind. She shoved herself out of bed and began to pace in front of the large arched windows.

She stopped and hesitantly reaching to tilt the emerald window curtain open, hoping to see something but knowing the pale blonde hair she was desperate to see wouldn't be there—

The fireplace roared to life, sparks burst out across the room making Hermione instantly dropped the curtain, hiding the brightness from the full moon, retuning her to darkness.

_No one had ever entered through the fireplace before... _

Her eyes scanned the room quickly for somewhere to hide as the fireplace roared loudly, clouds of smoke and fire expanding around the room. The small hidden room was on the opposite wall from where she was and she wasn't sure if she had time to make the door appear before whoever was exiting the Floo saw her.

As a figure in grey robes appeared behind the smoke Hermione quickly pulled the large window curtain in front of her and tried to focus on breathing softly, panic filled her from head to tow. She glanced down and was suddenly thankful for the obnoxiously large floor to ceiling arched windows and their equally as long curtains, keeping her concealed.

"Ugh—"

_It was a female voice._

"I absolutely deplore you for insisting I travel through that dusty fireplace. Honestly, Draco, it's as if you have no concern for the amount of effort I put into—"

Hermione froze. She recognized that high pitched voice laced with a lazy sense of entitlement...

_Pansy Parkinson._

* * *

His vines began to shift and he could feel the potion settle in his bones, giving him the strength to help him create the deception that he so delicately crafted. If anyone were to try and find anything now all they would find is Draco's sense of pride at accomplishing his mission for the Dark Lord. If someone were to look in his mind they wouldn't find Hermione Granger tucked inside his room, Bill Weasley in a random cottage with Potter, his mother's name neatly written on the visitors log at Gringott's, or Daphne Greengrass and her first successful werewolf transformation.

"Well, I'd say that went as expected— better even." Blaise said, catching his breath as he settled onto the forest floor beside Draco, Theo and a sleeping werewolf who was slowly morphing back into the form of Daphne Greengrass.

Draco glanced over at Theo and Blaise, noticing the black smudges of earth covering their clothing and skin. He knew he would look similarly as disgruntled as them, but couldn't fight back the smile forming on his face. He felt relieved as his eyes drifted over to Daphne now. He lifted his wand to place the blanket over her to cover her exposed skin.

"She was craftier than Pansy her first time don't you think? Quicker?" Theo said between ragged breaths, leaning his back against a tree. "More— I don't know… clever? I felt like she knew every move I was going to make before I even knew myself—"

"That—" Blaise said, taking a sip of a silver flask and handing it over to Draco, "—is because you're predictable Nott. She's been your dueling partner since second year."

"Predictable? Me?" Theo scoffed as he reached for the flask before Draco could take a sip. "Hardly. She's just— I don't know… freakishly sensory or something in full form."

Draco smirked as he watched Theo cough, clearly not prepared for the fire whisky to burn his lungs.

"I noticed it too." Draco added, reaching to take the flask from him and taking a sip enjoying the way it warmed his insides.

Alcohol always had a way to find a way to remind him how numb he was as he went through the motions of his life. With just one sip he was forced to feel the burning sensation and the dizziness to his head— a contrast to the constant dull numbing sensation he so heavily relied on to remain sane. Well, until a certain witch appeared and began making a mess of the walls put in place inside his mind.

"Makes sense though." Draco added, trying to not think about Hermione. "Daph's always been more clever than the rest of us— seems the wolf bit just compliments her brilliance. She'd be lethal in a battle."

"Which would be good if we were weaponizing her—" Blaise said with a pointed look, nudging Draco's foot with his own. "Which were _not_."

Draco shrugged his shoulders, making Blaise frown.

"Well if the wolfy senses helped Daph be more of a cunning devil then what do you suppose it did for Pans?" Theo asked, tilting the flask back clearly ignoring the way Blaise was watching Draco with a questionable stare.

"Sexual prowess perhaps?" Theo asked tilting his head at Draco waiting for an answer.

"Wouldn't know." Draco said flatly, still ignoring Blaise.

It was silent for a moment as they seemed to be coming down from the high of adrenaline in their veins.

Theo cleared his throat, shifting his body to lay back until he was staring up at the bright sky filled with stars. "Either of you talked to Daph or Pans about— you know…"

Blaise shook his head and scrunched his face looking uncomfortable as he spoke. "She wouldn't really say much, but she did mention that Pansy helped her… um, with the heat-cycle-wolf-pup thing. They're still trying to sort out the actual bonding bit."

"Kinky."

Draco breathed a soft laugh at Theo, letting the alcohol help coax his mind to quiet the thoughts and simply be present with his best friends. For a moment he focused on the irony of them sitting in the woods past curfew, drinking alcohol, and talking about girls.

As if on cue his skin began to tingle and he could feel his wand violently vibrating in his hand. He shot to his feet feeling the dizziness from the alcohol momentarily make him forget his reason for standing. His wand vibrated again and he felt his face flush, all the blood draining into his throat and choking him with fear.

"Draco—" Blaise was standing beside him. "What's wrong?"

"No… i-it's impossible— " Draco mumbled before glancing at them both. Then he quickly regained his wits and gripped his wand tighter. "_FUCK_— the Floo! I have to— _FUCK_— take care of Daph— I'll send a signal when I can."

Blaise and Theo watched as Draco spun away leaving them to stand alone with Daphne's sleeping form on the forest floor beside them.

"Fuck — he should not have apparated. Should we follow him?"

"No." Blaise said after a moment and leaned down to take hold of Daphne's wrist. "He'll signal us if he needs us. Let's get her back to the castle."

Theo nodded and placed his hand on Blaise's other hand and they apparated.

* * *

"Draaaco."

Hermione tensed as Pansy's voice rang out through the large room. She heard heels against the dark oak wooden floors crossing the room.

"Draco. I know I heard you in here. Honestly, if you're hiding somewhere and are planning to scare me this really isn't the appropriate time for such childish— wait—"

Hermione shut her eyes tighter and held her breath. She could have sworn Pansy was sniffing the air. She mentally calculated what it would take to over power the snotty Slytherin and take her wand. She may have had a few inches on her but Hermione was sure she was quicker— that paired with the element of surprise — the odds were in her favor.

_If she could just get Pansys wand—_

"I swear to Salazar_—_ Theodore Volcom Nott if you are planning another pathetic attempt to even the score I will hex your tiny little balls into oblivion—"

The sound of a loud crack echoed around the room and Hermione felt her heart stop.

_If that was Malfoy—_

"Oh!" Pansy shrieked and then huffed. "There you are —"

"Pansy?!" Malfoy's voice sounded strained and surprised like he could hardly breath. Hermione felt a tug in her chest wondering if he was hurt remembering the last time he arrived out of breath, then quickly shook the thought. "W-what are you—"

"I need you. _Now_."

Hermione could practically feel the atmosphere grow thicker with tension. She heard a muffled groan, though it may have been more of a grunt, and then shuffling of heels and feet moving clumsily until the sound of the bed creaked. Hermione tensed, realizing what Pansy intended to do. She inwardly cringed— _Malfoy wouldn't... Would he?! He knows I'm in the room! He simply WOULD NOT!_

There was another ruffling sound that Hermione assumed was Pansy clawing Malfoy's clothes off—

"Wait— Pan—sy sto—pp—"

Malfoy's words were muffled, Hermione assumed by Pansy's mouth, he sounded even more out of breath and his words were cut off instantly by what Hermione could only imagine was Pansy's mouth again.

_This can't be my life._

"Pansy— stop, just—"

Hermione overcame her revulsion enough to recognize the tone in Malfoy's command. He almost sounded worried, terrified even…

She shifted the curtains and regretted it immediately. Pansy was straddling Malfoy, her hips pressed flush against his and her hands were wrapped in his hair, her nails gripping the blonde strands ruffling them within her desperate grasp.

Hermione felt her face blush as her eyes continued to take in the unlikely state of Malfoy. His bare chest exposed with only his black pants between him and a half naked Pansy, who was wearing much less. For a moment she guilty kept her eyes on the sight, unable to tare her eyes away.

The firm lines along Malfoy's chest and stomach were well defined and tense from straining to sit up as Pansy's body pressed into him. The veins in his arms were popping out as his long fingers dug into Pansy's hips, and his round biceps protruded revealing a sculpted line where his shoulder began... _and, wait— why was he covered in dirt?_

Pansy was abruptly lifted from her position with a swift effortless motion of Malfoy's arms extending and landing her on her back with a thud. Malfoy shoved himself off of the bed quickly glancing around the room. His eyes were anxious as he found nothing and then turned to Pansy.

"For fuck's sake Parkinson!" Draco half shouted through staggered breaths running his hand through his hair, causing it to be in more of a mess.

It was then that Hermione realized her eyes were now lingering on his chest, watching it rise and fall. The observations she made of his defined stomach and upper body were now on full display and much more difficult to ignore. She wanted to slap herself for even noticing.

"You can't just come into a man's room and attack him with your mouth!"

Pansy sat pouting on the bed, and then her expression grew annoyed.

"_HA_!" She threw her head back. "That's rich, coming from _you_."

"What made you think it would be a good idea to come here? Especially tonight? It's not safe—"

"I'm just as vulnerable out there with Greyback—"

_Greyback_?

"Don't." Malfoy cut in quickly. "Just—" Malfoy sighed, glancing around the room again, clearly searching for her. "What do you want Pansy?"

Pansy crossed her arms. There was something in her face now that made Hermione feel like something bad had happened to her. Her eyes were drawn down and Hermione noticed the slight shakiness to her hands as she fumbled with them in her lap.

"Pans... I can't help if you won't talk to me. You only come to me for sex when you need to be distracted or Daph—"

"Don't." Pansy's voice cut through the air like a shard of ice. "Don't say her name Draco. I can't have you of all people telling me how pathetic I am. Trust me, I know." Her voice was still firm, but it lacked its initial bite with the last few words.

Her shoulders fell slightly and she glanced up at Draco like a scolded child.

Draco nodded. His face didn't change as he stared at her.

"I need to get back. I really can't let you stay Pansy. I know you can't be there, but it's even more dangerous for you here right now. Trust me."

The way he spoke to her made Hermione pause, considering the parts of the story she was missing.

Pansy sighed and moved from the bed. She pulled her robes back on and moved over to Malfoy, slipping her hands behind his neck and linking them there. Malfoy tensed but he didn't pull away. She placed her head on his chest.

"I'm terrified Draco." Pansy's voice was fragile now, so low that Hermione could barely hear her. "I thought since I couldn't be there that maybe we could distract each other..."

She shook her head laughing softly.

"I'm beginning to realize how ridiculous I sound. I got the message that she was safe and it was over from Zabini but then—" she removed her stare from his shaking her head. "Merlin, I'm pathetic. I don't even _want_ to have sex with you— I just wanted— I just want to know she's alright, but I can't think about her without—"

"I know." Draco mumbled into her hair, like he was trying to keep his voice low. He lifted his hands to wrap one around her waist and the other behind her head. "I'm so sorry, Pans but you know we'd never let anything happen to her."

Pansy nodded, Hermoine could hear her staggered breaths as a tear rolled down her cheek.

Draco pulled away slightly and lifted his hands and placed them on either side of Pansy's face.

"She's tougher than you think Pans. Blaise and Theo are with her. They know what they're doing."

"She doesn't deserve… It's all my fault and I can't even be there with her to see her through it."

Draco stilled and Pansy returned her head to his chest. Hermione saw his jaw clinch at her words and he swallowed clearly uncomfortable with either her words or the words he wanted to say, but before he could open his mouth Pansy lightly slapped his arm.

"I hate you for not letting me be there." She mumbled against his chest. "_And_ for not fucking me to help me forget my miserable life…"

The sight of Malfoy's lips twitching into a genuine smile made Hermione feel guilty about watching this intimate moment.

"It's not safe for either of you, not yet."

"I know. I know_—_" She grumbled and pulled away from him a little to look at his face with a smirk, wiping a tear quickly from her cheek. "—hence, the reason for mu-mulling you with my mouth and demanding mind-blowing sex to distract me from going insane with helplessness."

Malfoy raised a brow, his smirk growing smug. There was a playfulness in his eyes that Hermione was never fortunate enough to witness before. It made her cheeks blush bright pink as he lowered his voice to say, "Mind-blowing, _really?_"

"Oh shove off." Pansy pushed away from him lightly and shook her head. "You're only the second best shag I've ever had."

"Ouch." He pretended to look hurt, but continued to smile warmly at her and then glanced around the room until they landed on the fireplace.

"Fine. Fine. I can take a hint." She moved towards the Floo and Malfoy followed after her. She turned and pushed up on her toes and kissed Malfoy on the cheek. "Also, you took like shit. Get some bloody rest would you — and don't get yourself killed, yea?"

Hermione saw another tear roll down Pansy's cheek and then she was stepping into the Floo.

"Pans," Draco's voice was even lower now and his back was to Hermione and coming from across the large room. She strained forward and she could just barely make out what he said next. "Does she know?"

The look of guilt filtered across Pansy's haunted features, her eyes flickered from her hands to Draco. She shook her head 'no'. Draco nodded in understanding and handed her the Floo powder, mumbling something along the lines of stay safe and handed her a vial as well.

Hermione tried to see the color of the liquid floating in the vial with hopes to identify its content but before she could Pansy was gone.

She hurried to push the curtain back in place. It was only a moment before footsteps began to echo across the floor, stopping only a few feet away. Her heart was racing.

"Granger." Malfoy's voice sent a shiver across her skin and she instantly wished she would have hid in the bathroom instead of having to face him after such an intimate conversation with Pansy.

She tried not to think of how casually they touched one another or how Pansy had access to his private chambers. She inhaled once and held her chin up hoping to fein innocence at hearing anything, but as soon as her eyes landed on his and swept across his bare chest, her shoulders dropped slightly and she forgot what she was trying to forget in the first place.

He took a step towards her, his eyes heavily focused on reading her expression.

"Is everything alright?" She managed to say, trying desperately to rid herself of the warm feeling flowing through her body as his stare remained on hers.

"I only came because the Floo was activated. I have to go." He dropped his gaze from her as he turned and reached for his shirt off the floor where Pansy had tossed it earlier. He lifted his wand to repair the buttons that popped off in her hurry to remove it.

Hermione's cheeks heated as she watched the muscles in his back as he turned, remembering the way he lifted Pansy so effortlessly and tossed her on the bed—

"When will you return?"

She heard the rising panic in her voice and hadn't realized her feet take a few steps across the room and she stopped them immediately, regretting opening her mouth. He was starring at her with a unrecognizable expression. Her cheeks burned.

"It's—" She started and then rolled her eyes at herself. "It's just— It's difficult for me... waiting, feeling helpless and not knowing when you're coming back."

_If_ _you're coming back..._

He buttoned the last button on his shirt and pulled on his robes on, looking her over.

"Soon." He said cryptically and then smirked as she huffed and crossed her arms, obviously annoyed by his answer. Then he was moving towards her and stopping only a foot away, lowering his voice slightly. "Before you wake Granger. I promise."

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as her name curled off his tongue. She nodded, not trusting her voice to not convey how desperate she needed that to be true.

His face returned to its usual bored expression— which she was beginning to recognize as a reoccurring facial expression, usually forming whenever he was prepared to depart. The logical part of her brain— the part that wasn't distracted by Malfoy standing before her shirtless with the moonlight filtering in from the window, casting alluring shadows across his muscles just enough to cause her to pause for breath — noted that the bored expression meant he was focusing on guarding his mind.

She wondered how exhausting that must be, but was distracted as he took a step backwards.

"Thank you—" she said quickly. "For the books…"

He pulled his wand out and let it hang at his side for a moment, looking her over for another beat—

"Of course."

He moved to ward the Floo and then disappeared with a loud crack to accompany her and her thoughts—

She could feel the tangible difference in the air in his wake. Something was shifting in her understanding of Draco Malfoy and for once Hermione Granger didn't have any clues where to even begin to try and understand what it was.


	8. 3 Questions & 3 Answers (Pt I)

**Hi. Hi. Hi. I am sorry I took so long to post. I've already written this story out about four more chapters but I'm constantly flip-flopping on timing and revealing information. That being said I won't be abandoning this story so long as you wonderful people want to read it. This is my first fanfic so I am dedicated to finish it either way, but when people comment it helps inspire me to sort through the story and post it sooner! Ok, that's all from me... Enjoy.**

A.N. Also, if there is ever something that isn't clear in the story please mention it in the comments so I can edit for clarification. I often get ahead of myself and think I mentioned something in previous chapters when I only thought it in my head. Yeah, I know, shitty habit for a writer, i'm working on it... *shrugs off ineptitude in all things that are life*

* * *

Hermione stirred awake to the feeling of someone standing over her. Before panic could set in her eyes instantly recognized the person standing a few feet from where she was sleeping, though his focus was not on her but on the stack of notes Hermione left on the side table the night before. She tried to remain completely still for a moment as she watched him concentrate on the parchment, hoping to steal a few moments to observe him. He hadn't noticed her eyes flutter open.

His hair was slightly disheveled, reminding her of the way Harry's would look after a bath and he let it air dry. His attire was more relaxed than she had ever seen him before. Her eyes scanned over the thin white long sleeve cotton shirt, one sleeve pushed up to his elbow, the other to just above his wrist. She thought she knew why he kept one arm covered. Her eyes drifted back up to his face once more, his icy stare was narrowed slightly as they flicked across the words. She could see the tiredness in his features were slightly less severe, the dark circles under his eyes gained a bit of their color back. As her gaze drifted down to where one side of bottom lip was tucked under his tooth, the previous night flooded her mind.

_Before you wake Granger. I promise._

He kept his promise.

He must of sensed her breathing slightly quicken because the next moment the sharp concentration on his face shifted into something softer as he turned his head to where she was laying. She didn't miss the small step he took forward, but only slightly before thinking better of moving closer and firmly placing his hands deep in his pockets after placing the parchment on the table next to him.

They both seemed to notice the silence growing louder between them as Hermione slowly shifted her weight to her elbow, and both opened their mouths to speak.

Draco hurriedly asked, "How are you feeling?" As Hermione said, "Good morning."

Draco scowled down at his shuffling feet as Hermione smiled nervously down at her hands on top of the duvet.

"I'm—" She started and then let out a small breath, shrugging, "I suppose I'm well, all things considered."

He seemed to be regretting asking her the question as he glared down at his feet for several more moments, nodding. It was strange to see him like this, just standing there with a casual expression instead of the usual look of urgency or look of indifference. Hermione shifted her body up completely and glanced down at the parchment he was just looking over. She was just about to ask him about the books he'd given her or where he'd been, but he spoke before she could.

"I'd like to do a diagnostic spell." His eyes glanced down to her arm and back to her face. "If you feel comfortable, that is…"

For a moment Hermione felt the sudden need to laugh at the thought of Draco Malfoy asking her permission for anything, but the need faded just as suddenly when she remembered what all he had already done for her.

"Oh, um, sure. Yes. Of course." She said and was surprised when he immediately took the two steps to close the gap between them and brought his wand from his back pocket, as if he had been wanting to check on the curses progress for ages. The look on relief flooded his face as he focused on the task at hand. He stopped just beside the bed, his thighs lightly grazing the mattress where her hand lay inches away.

"You should lay down." He suggested less firmly than she would have suspected from him.

She just nodded, and slowly shifted onto her back and gazed at the ceiling not entirely comfortable with him hovering over her.

"You didn't want to check while I was asleep?" She heard herself asking, keeping her focus on the intricate designs above her, feeling his fingers lightly graze her skin where the bandage on her arm was wrapped. She wondered why he wasn't using magic and using his fingers instead.

"I'd imagine it would be slightly unsettling to wake up to a Death Eater's wand directed at your head…" Draco said and she could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Or did I assume incorrectly and you'rea into that sort of thing?"

The question caught her off guard and made her entire body tense. She lifted her head slightly to see Draco's smirk firmly slapped across his smug features as he unwrapped the last of the bandage. The cool air hitting her exposed flesh was a stark contrast to the burning heat rising to her cheeks as his gaze flicked to hers making her instantly drop her head back down on the pillow.

"Your initial assumption was perfectly appropriate, unlike that question." She said primly.

He was silent for a few minutes and she glanced up only to see him concentrated on a dim red ball of light hovering above her arm, and in the center interwoven was an inky black string, resembling spiderwebs. They grew thinner as they spread towards the outer area of the sphere. It was unlike anything she had seen before, besides…

"I've seen this…" She mumbled to herself and she felt Draco's eyes on her then. She reached her hand out to touch the sphere but her hand simply floated through the air until it landed on her lap once more. She turned to Draco, "…in one of the books you had Mink deliver to me."

"Magical Phlebotomy Through the Ages." Draco explained with a nod, dropping his wand and thus, making the strange red glow fade away. Hermione stared at where the odd diagram was moments ago. "The author was a Half-Blood, raised by muggles and her education, influenced heavily by muggle science particularly in the medical field, led her to begin researching Phlebotomy to advance Wizarding medicine. Before her, there was very little known about blood extraction with the intent to heal rather than, well—"

"Murder?" Hermione offered and Draco grimaced, glancing away from her.

"Yes. Most of her references predating her research heavily mentions Werewolves and Vampires. The understanding of 'blood extraction' back then was simply a process intended on keeping the blood provider alive, and as a result the creatures would have constant blood source. "

Hermione tried not to imagine the barbaric process and quickly shoved the thought aside to focus on the author instead.

"Did this authors research help you with trying to find a cure?"

Draco nodded, keeping his eyes down as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I remember seeing the," she waved her hand in front of her referencing the red glowing ball, "diagnostic thing in her book. Is it… does it mean something?"

Draco lifted his head then and his brow pulled together before he took a slow step forward and lifted himself to sit on the edge of the bed, turning his torso slightly to look at her. She tried not to flinch as his thigh raised until his knee was bent and his foot crossed over his other leg . The motion leaving her hip a hairsbreadth away from his knee.

"The red sphere indicates that the curse is still very much in your system and the black tendrils indicate to what extent it has spread through your veins. Currently, the curse is—" he paused searching for the right word, "manageable… it's primarily residing near it's source—" he nodded down to where her left arm lay limp in her lap, "your arm."

Hermione instinctively raised her right hand, grazing her fingers over the sore area surrounding the sharp engraving of her flesh. She shook the darker thoughts away and focused on Draco.

"Tell me more about the author— you said she was a researcher? What did she discover when she began researching blood extraction?"

"Ayah Wekesa… She introduced the possibility of filtering a magical patient's blood when a muggle virus continued to reoccur in her country almost every decade, decreasing Africa's population by almost forty percent with every virus wave. Her theory helped inspire the extraction process I came up with to slow the curse down. I developed the modified healing potion with Professor Snape's assistance and combined it with Wekesa's theory of filtering the curse out of the blood stream, like she planned to do with the muggle virus before she died."

It was then that Hermione realized she was leaning forward slightly, hanging on his every word, not even aware that she was listening to Draco Malfoy educate her on Muggle history. The moment was too unfathomable to dwell on so she decided instead to soak up whatever information he would offer her, finding that she quiet enjoyed the slight dip of his brow and the way the grey shade of his eyes seemed to brighten when he concentrated on explaining himself.

It was the only time she saw him truly appear confident. His normal guarded expression and rigidness in his posture was missing and replaced with a confident ease that causes her to concentrate on committing every inch of his expression to memory, in case she never saw it again.

"Wekesa only learned she was a witch ten years before she died and began her research almost immediately after finding out. It took her five years to become a liscened Healer and begin her own research in the Wizarding World." He turned his head to stare straight as he paused for a moment, lowering his voice slightly, some emotion Hermione couldn't make out flash across his features. "I can't help but wonder how much more I could understand about this curse if she had known she was a witch sooner…"

Hermione considered what she wanted to ask him next. The moment felt to fragile to even speak, but her mind was bursting with questions. She was afraid if she pointed out Draco's interest in Muggle anything it would lead to a conversation not worth having. Instead she tucked that secret away for herself, feeling oddly proud that she may be the only person aware that Draco Malfoy had far more layers than what he willingly portrayed to the world. Eventually she decided to settle on the curse itself, remembering that it was quite literally growing inside her veins.

"And you've preformed the extraction process before?" She asked, her eyes studying his side profile, noticing his jaw clench as he dropped his head and nodded once.

"Did they—" She swallowed a deep breath, slowly letting it out as she asked timidly, "Survive?"

His eyes met hers and she recognized the expression she couldn't decipher earlier, grief.

"The first, no. The second is still alive with the curse still in their system."

"W-who— who was the first?" She had to drop her stare from his, unable to continue staring into tis eyes without feeling the need to comfort him somehow.

" Rodolphus Lestrange."

Hermione gasped. "You're aunt— s-she— she murdered her own husband?"

Draco didn't even flinch, his mask firmly in place though there was still a hint of sadness behind the grey orbs looking at her.

"And the second…?"

This time the sadness was no longer observed, but felt as she watched the pain deepen causing a knot to twist in her stomach. She tried to ignore it, but as she watched Draco take a deep breath in she held hers causing the knot to tighten even more.

"My mother."

He stood up from the bed and Hermione followed the abrupt movement as he cleared his throat and paused near the window. Several moments passed and the need to comfort him was replaced with a longing to bear the pain for him.

"Malfoy…" She managed to breath out. "That's— awful."

Draco shrugged then, turning away from the window to look at her.

"She's still alive."

Even as he said it Hermione could sense the guilt in his tone— the utter despair laced within his words, indicating that it wasn't enough— for him, simply being alive… it wasn't enough.

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy could always tell when her husband was in over his head, and he had been for a very, very long time. Though, she managed to keep her families heads from the metaphorical chopping block for this long, she was certain the tides were shifting… as were the stars.

A smile creeped across her lips as she pulled her tea cup to her lips as the memory of standing in the Forbidden Forrest weeks ago entered her mind.

She lifted the paint brush in her hand and lightly traced it along the canvas in front of her. Her eyes remained closed. Behind her eyelids was a brilliant blue light casted across the vast night sky— constellations scattered in a pattern she placed her faith in, the sound of gallivanting hooves thumping across the damp forrest floor accompanied the repetition of words boomed from one of the centaurs mouths as they continued circling around her, the all encompassing breeze from their rapid path reminding her of a controlled tornado—

**Fairness so bright, paler than light…**

Her son. Draco. The one the centaurs call the Dragon.

**Seeking refuge, but lacking sight…**

Her husband. Lucius, The one who trapped the Dragon in darkness.

**In a crimson pool he will stand, protecting a life near its end...**

The girl. Hermione Granger. The one who forced the Dragon to see there was an escape from the darkness.

**The answer seen in her reflection, to reveal an allegiancece of Power need be shifted…**

Narcissa's eyes shot open and her eyes focused on the vision her hands interpreted with the paint brush. The smile on her face faltering slightly at the vast amounts of red splattered across the canvas.

"So this is what will become of us because of our son's brief moment of '_bravery_'."

Narcissa turned on her heel to see her husband hovering near the entrance of the vast room covered in paintings and white sheets. The look on his face was filled with equal amounts of distaste and surprise. She didn't waver though. She never did.

"Before this ending revealed itself to me there was another… one where our son died protecting you. _You_— " she emphasized, stepping closer to where he slouched over his cane. "_You, _his father, whose only purpose in life was to protect his family. Now, the stars have revealed a different outcome—"

She turned away from him to take in the painting once more, inhaling slightly as her eyes scanned over the chaotic scene.

"He no longer desires my protection." Lucius said.

Narcissa heard the familiar guilt in his tone but did not turn to face him. Instead she focused on the painting, her heart beating loudly in her chest providing an appropriate rhythm similar to that of a war drum to accompany the violent scene. She heard Lucius' cane against the marble floors as he approached her. She remained still. The warmth of his chest met her back and her body, used to his familiarity, sagged slightly to allow him to snake his arms around to clasp over her stomach. His breath sending a shiver across the skin of her neck as his lips grazed the sensitive area below her ear.

No matter how deep Lucius managed to bury them, he knew he would always have this. He would always have his wife. She tilted her head to the side as they both eyed the painting, both lost in entirely separate moments while holding on tightly to the other.

"In this new ending you've seen…" he muttered so low it was more of a growl, sending a second shiver to expand down to the soles of her feet "…our son lives, but at what cost?" His teeth gently pulled her ear, releasing it roughly as he tightened his grip around her, pulling her further into him, desperately. "How will he be able to live if he's lost _his mother_? How am I to live without _you_?"

And it was then that the scene on the canvas began to fade, sinking into the fabric bit by bit…

The deepest shade of red, red, red faded into grey—

The outline of bodies scattered across the Hogwarts viaduct disappeared stone by stone—

The last strokes of paint on the canvas forced Lucius to shut his eyes, but Narcissa was not afraid of her fate. The outline of her body was gone, and the paleness of her hair shortly followed after. The lifeless eyes were the last to fade until the canvas was as it once was, free from the burden of her vision and awaiting her next secret to store it away for no one eles to find; a practice she taught her son the moment he understood what magic was— the moment she swore that she would arm him with the necessary tools to protect himself from the world he was stepping into. And he picked up drawing with such ease, Narcissa believed he was always meant to be a creator and that the world was meant to see beauty he could create for it…

Lucius tore her attention from the canvas, firmly turning her around, his grip tight on either side of her face. Narcissa could feel the desperation in his eyes, begging her— always begging her… for forgiveness, for safety, for his very purpose to continue breathing…

"His decisions will destroy me." Lucius struggled to breath as he whispered the words to her. "His decision will cost me _you_—"

There was a lack of color missing from his eyes, despite the emotion with which he so convincingly portrayed to her. It was the same color that had been missing ever since the Dark Lord promised her husband the world, to only suffocate what little color was left in him, the man she fell in love with—

She stepped out of his grip causing him to stagger forward, his cane hardly stable to hold his shaking weight and fixed him with a flat stare. The color in her eyes was still there and it belonged to her son.

"The only decision that will be responsible for my death is the decision you made to allow darkness into our home."

Narcissa did not linger to hear the string of pleas that followed in her wake. She did not even turn around to check and see if he was laying in a pile on the marble after she heard his cane smack against the floor.

No, Narcissa Malfoy knew the weight she carried for so long was far too heavy a burden to bare any longer and she was determined to let it fall if it meant ensuring she had enough strength to give her son a chance at a better life— even if it meant the end of her own.

* * *

Draco could practically hear the gears twirling inside Herminoe's head as she dropped her eyes from his. He only allowed the silence to stretch for a second longer before clearing his throat, noticing the sadness in Hermione's posture as she seemed to be thinking of something far outside of his room. He didn't want to talk about his mother. He couldn't. He was about to make an excuse to leave when he heard her small voice causing him to turn to her once more.

"So, am I allowed to ask where you've been all this time?"

The painful memory of his mother being tortured was immediately replaced with flashes of everything that he discovered in the short time he was away from Granger.

_Laying on the floor of Snape's office as he maneuvered his way into his mind and somehow finding Granger amongst the thick, tangled vines—_

_Standing in the entrance of the meeting room as Voldemort tasked him to lead the mission and his father's glare from behind him boring into his skull—_

_Bill Weasley slumped in the interrogation room as Draco shoved his way into his mind revealing his mother's signature on the visitor log, Potter in a cottage by the sea, Griphook's beady eyes searching for something amongst the comotion —_

_His arm tingling with warm magic as it summoned him to the headmasters office, revealing the small mysterious black box— _

_Chasing Daphne's wolf form through the forrest, sweating, panting, gasping for any relief in his lungs, searing pain in his limbs from exhaustion as he pushed himself to move faster, quicker, to react quicker because he couldn't let what happened during Pansy's first transformation happen to Daphne, he couldn't fail her too—_

He felt this throat begin to close and despite every fiber of his being begging him to flee the room, he moved to sit on the bed once more, fixing his stare on hers, noticing the look of concern in her eyes as he searched her face. A small breath escaped him as he shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, suddenly aware that she was watching him and dropped his hand to his lap.

"I'm not entirely certain where I should even begin…"

He knew he had to tell her. If she was going to answer his questions then he would have to answer hers too. Also, she deserved to know.

"I have news on Potter." Draco said as he tried not to flinch at the loud intake of breath as Hermione tensed beside him.

"Harry?! Is he— Does that mean? Does You-Know-Who have him? Did h-he try and come for me and now he's—

Her entire expression flood with fear and he quickly realized that maybe he shouldn't have led with that.

"No, no. The Dark Lord doesn't know anything. I made sure of that."

Even though her breathing seemed to calm, the fear was still apparent in her features.

"I-I don't understand— what—"

"I saw him in Bill Weasley's memories. The Dark Lord sent me to retrieve memories from the prisoners and I saw Potter…"

"Bill— but…" She shook her head, tears brimming her eyes. "He's a prisoner?"

Draco grimaced, remembering how difficult it was to levitate his dead weight and procure an international portkey, _an illegal international portkey._

"Not anymore."

Her face lost all color and he realized once more that he should really be more careful in his delivery of news.

"He's not dead Granger." He sighed as she opened her mouth to ask another question and he cut her off. "Look, this will be easier if I just show you, yeah?"

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, "Show me?"

"Yes, show you." He stated flatly. "Wait here."

He went to the small room where he kept his journals and came back to sit next to her on the bed. After shuffling through the pages quickly for a few moments he finally landed on the blank page and summoned one of his charcoal pens. He could feel Hermione's gaze watching him as he began sketching out a rough image on the parchment. He limited the memory to only show the pieces he wanted to reveal, unsure if she would be as willing with information after she saw him in this light. Only a few minutes passed before he felt the image would suffice. He pulled his wand out and stood up from the bed, holding the journal out to her.

"Take it, keep it open on that page and when you feel it tugging you forward don't fight it. It's not painful, but you will feel a bit of pressure pulling you."

She scowled at him.

"You're just going have to trust me Granger." He said impatiently.

The moment she inhaled deeply and then set her eyes on the parchment again he rolled his shoulders back, readying himself for the magic it would take to perform the complicated spell. Shutting his eyes he felt the vines of each memory slither forward. He selected the ones he wanted her to see and said the incantation, feeling the pulse of pressure in his mind tingle down into his wrist and out of his wand. He repeated this process for each detail and as he opened his eyes he saw the parchment in the journal begin to tremble in her hands. A jet of light protruded over the the images as they began to move, playing out the scene for her. Draco heard her gasp and then her eyes glossed over and he knew she was no longer in this room, but taken into the parchment to see what he had seen…

This was only his second time performing this particular magic and the strain it took to perform it weighed heavily on his magical core. He felt his limbs shake and was confused to feel his body begin to shift until he felt his body hit the floor and all was dark.

Tearing, ripping, slashing into two halves—

That's what it felt like was happening to her skin, right down the middle. Hermione felt her breath expand in her chest until she was numb. The feeling wasn't painful, but it was extremely uncomfortable and made her body go freezing. There was a pulling along with the tearing until she felt like her entire body had been stretched from every angle.

The moment her vision returned she felt immobilized, frozen as her eyes landed on Voldemort's red glare across the room. A moment later he was speaking and it took everything within her not to scream. The slight blur of platinum hair jolted her awareness to her right where Draco was standing, but it wasn't actually Draco— or was it?

She took a slow step forward as Voldemort's words seemed to float over her, muffled but she heard every slithering whisper escape the thin slit that was what remained of his mouth.

_And Draco… Don't Disssapoint…_

The moment her mind finally registered that what she was seeing was not real, but a memory the images before her shifted and the tearing and ripping returned until her feet were firmly planted in another memory. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but the familiar blur of platinum hair immediately caught her eye and she felt comforted somehow by the sight; that was, until she heard the vicious cries surrounding the memory.

_Bill—_

Her throat tightened as she hurried forward, but her body seemed rooted in place. She hardly recognized the other men wearing Death Eater robes in the memory. She tried to determine where this memory took place and quickly took in the details, hoping to find something familiar…

Lucius Malfoy and another man had their wands raised at several people tied up with ropes in interrogation chairs, each one wore Ministry official robes except for Bill. _They were being tortured…_

She wanted to vomit. She wanted to run. She wanted to kill the men torturing the innocent people… Bill Weasley looked like a shell of himself and she could do nothing—

She glanced over at Draco once more and noticed the guarded expression firmly planted on his face. He wasn't looking at the prisoners, but the floor. He looked bored. He was using Occlumency. As she regarded him she felt her heart tug in her chest.

A moment later he was called on by one of the others and moved in front of each prisoner. Her heart leaped in her chest as he stopped in front of Bill.

Bill lunged forward spitting directly in Draco's face and the next moment Draco was shoving a muzzle over his mouth. Hermione flinched as she saw the ropes tighten around Bill's already weary body. She knew her cheeks were warm from the trail of tears rolling down them. Before she could raise her hand to remove them the ripping began once more and she was being thrown into another memory.

HARRY!

RON!

She was shouting. She was shaking with joy, fear, and utter helplessness—

Who was in Harry's arms? Whose blood was on his shirt?

_It's my fault— Mione— It's all my fault— I'm s-so s-sorry 'Mione—_

IT'S OK HARRY.

YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING—

HARRY! I'M RIGHT HERE—

Her throat felt sore from screaming as she forced through the panic and sobs but no one looked at her. She watched as Ron shouted at Bill. She heard her name. The look on his face was enough to make her fall to her knees. Her heart weighed a million pounds in her chest, all she could do was watch—

_She'll survive this— She will— She's strong— She won't let them break her—_

Bill. He was trying to comfort Ron with his words, but Hermione could hardly focus on them through her tears. Something reminded her that she should be paying close attention to where they were, but she couldn't stop shaking, crying, knowing that they were suffering because of her—

The ripping began once more.

_NO!_

She shouted over and over but the tearing continued. She refused to leave— She didn't realize how much it hurt until she saw them, but it seemed she didn't have a choice. The next time her vision returned she was panting in Malfoy's room, her entire body felt sore. Her breath came in spurts and she couldn't seem to catch it and she completely lost any control as her eyes noticed the platinum hair on the floor.

Adrenaline must have taken over her because five seconds ago she couldn't imagine ever moving her body again. The sight of Malfoy laying unconscious on the floor shoved her past the pain and she moved quickly to the floor, hovering over him. She scanned his body but found no injuries. Her fingers checked his pulse….

Still breathing—

His wand was only inches from her finger tips. She reached for it and immediately revived him without paying much attention to the pulse of magic vibrating in her veins, until a painful shock coursed through her hand and the wand immediately dropped to the floor.

_Of course he would place a protection charm on his wand to reject another's magic from using it— _

Draco sat up so quickly he almost collided with Hermione on the way up. His frantic eyes searching the room as he breathed so rapidly she thought he was hyperventilating. The moment he set his gaze on her the panic fell from his face and he shut his eyes.

"Fuck— what happened?"

"Y-you must have passed out a-after—" She muttered through uncontrolled breaths, shutting her eyes and feeling another stream of tears burn her eyes. She was still catching up to everything she saw and seemed to be having a difficult time speaking.

"Granger." He said softly, gripping her arm.

"I-I'm sorry."

He let go of her arm the moment he realized how close they were, shifting back searching for his wand. Hermione felt the weight of the memories crash around inside her head and she struggled to stop them from making her head throb. She lifted her hands to either side of her head, gripping tightly with her eyes shut tight.

"Granger, hey— Granger— Look at me. Look at me."

Hermione slowly opened her eyes into his, the color of them seemed clearer somehow, crisp and she thought if she just leaned closer she could bury herself in them until she was as numb as he was.

"You're alright? It worked didn't it? You saw him— Potter?"

She nodded.

"Did any of it look familiar to you? The cottage?"

Hermione frowned then, mentally berating herself for not having paid closer attention, "I-I'm not— I don't know— I couldn't tell where they were. I was only w-watching H-Harry— I-I'm sorry—"

Draco only nodded, clearly not getting the answer he expected. He shoved himself to his feet, pulling her elbow along with him with a gentleness she did not know he possessed.

"You were hoping I could tell you where they went. That's why you showed me…"

"That was part of it— yeah."

"I-I don't understand— How was Bill caught if he was with Harry?"

She had her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, her breath still shaky and upon her face her tears began to slow.

Malfoy frowned at her question. He was regarding her with a strained expression as if he was forcing himself not to say something, but eventually settled on, "He broke into Gringotts. I think Potter and Weasley sent him."

"Gringotts?" She repeated and shook her head. "I don't understand— why would he do that? It's a risk for any of the Weasley's to be seen out in public."

Hermione glanced up to see Draco's head tilted down slightly, reading her expression from behind a few loose hanging hairs.

"I think you know the answer to that already Granger."

He took a step forward and she tensed, tightening her hold around her body. Her eyes flicked to the scattered books on the floor across the room. The books that he sent her. Her heart felt heavy as it struggled to beat in its normal rhythm.

"What are you playing at Malfoy?"

Draco flinched at the distrust in her tone.

"I'm not playing at anything, Granger…" He lowered his voice slightly, hoping to sound sincere. "You can tell me…" Then a small smile twitch on his lips, "It should be fairly obvious by now that I'm not going to turn on you. I'm in far over my head here. The more I search for answers I only get more questions… I need you to be honest with me. The sooner you do that the sooner all of this can be over." He swallowed then, dropping his gaze from hers and stood up crossing his arms. "…the sooner you can be free of me."

She watched him shift anxiously from one foot to the other, not realizing that she had been holding her breath until he dropped his gaze.

"So you sent me those books to help you find answers?"

He nodded, slowly lifting his chin to look at her. "I thought you'd want to understand the curse better, so I added some references that I used to understand it… but ultimately I was hoping the others would be helpful for you to understand Bill's memory… to help _us_ understand."

"You want me to help you figure out where Harry went?" She asked skeptically. "And then what? What happens if we figure out where he's been all this time?" She took a challenging step forward, but he only stood taller, pointing his chin down at her, though she was not intimidated by the height difference. "Are you planning to let me go to him? Is your intention to set me free?"

She watched his jaw clench. There was a vulnerability in his face that caused her stubbornness to falter. Her face slowly formed into an expression of confusion.

"I didn't save you because I think you could serve as a bargaining token— or whatever it is you've conjured up in your mind." His voice was so low and his face tilted to the floor she had to focus on his lips to make out each word. "I didn't recognize it at the time I was doing it. It didn't occur to me my true intentions for saving you until much later… but I saved you because I've been in deep for so long that I couldn't stand the thought of making another bad decision— another decision that led to more death."

He shook his head, and the moment he lifted his eyes to meet hers she had to hold back her sharp intake of breath at the piercing blue shade deepening in his eyes, forcing its way into her soul.

"I'm sick of death Granger…." He continued. "And I'm in so deep that I haven't the slightest idea on where to start to get out, but the moment I saved you…" He swallowed, a shaky breath escaping his lips. "…the moment I saved you, well— it felt like a step in the right direction."

Hermione said nothing, only vaguely aware that she was still blinking, unable to remove her stare from his. She felt as if she was trying to wake from a dream, stuck in the panicked induced moments between a nightmare and waking up to realize it was never real— _was this real? _

"I need you to show me what to do next."

She felt his hand grip hers, gently squeezing once as his eyes darted across her features. His worried expression probably caused by the amount of time she remained silent. It was then she felt something shifting between them and it terrified her to think that she was letting her guard down around him, but it felt inevitable somehow... the two of them needing the other to find their way out of the darkness.

"Say something…" He whispered eventually, desperately.

Hermione finally managed to regain her wits about her and glanced down at his hand clinging to hers. She glanced back up to his face and inhaled a shaky breath.

Images of the boy he had once been flashed in front of her mind, but as her thoughts returned to reality she knew the man standing in front of her was no longer that boy; and it frightened her, but what frightened her even more was that even before he revealed this to her she already trusted him. With that thought she felt a spark of determination ignite within her. He was her way out, her way to Harry...

"We should begin where every constructive partnership begins... with trust."

She noticed his shoulders visibly relax at her words.

"Alright." He nodded, swallowing nervously. "How do you suppose we go about that?"

She took a step back, causing his hand to drop from hers and began walking towards the center of the room where the books were laid out, then stopped to turn to look at him.

"Easy." She shrugged. "I tell you everything I know and you do the same… though there should be some structure to this so we both feel that the other is revealing an equal amount information."

"Structure?" Draco repeated, nodding and coming to stand near where she lowered herself to the ground, reaching for a piece of parchment and began writing. He stood above her and watch as she folded her legs criss-cross and immediately adverted his gaze from where his jumper shifted over her thighs.

He wasn't certain as to what to expect as answer, but he wasn't entirely disappointed that she was willing to cooperate with him. He ignored the slight jump in his pulse and the heat in his veins whenever she would smile at him. He felt something tap his shin and adverted his gaze from where it rested on the piano to land below. Hermione was holding a parchment out for him and he bent down to retrieve it, and then slowly lowered himself to sit across from her. He lifted his knees, crossing them so he could rest his elbows on them, and lifted the paper to read what she had written. Holding back a much needed scoff at her thorough guidelines, or should he say 'rules' as it were. If he had to summarize the document he would compare it to a legal interrogation contract stating what and how questions could be, should be asked and answered. She could have just said plainly, three questions from her and then three questions from him until both are satisfied with what they know, but he remembered that this was Hermione Granger. She was not one to graze over specifics.

He lowered the parchment and set it on the floor between them.

With one knee still bent as he rested his left elbow on it, the other laying flat while his hand held his weight to the side, he nodded. "Very well. Which of us will begin?"

"I will of course." She said, lifting her chin and he rolled his eyes but the smirk on his face grew.

"Fine." He leaned back until he was laying back on his elbow, he lifted his brows. "Do your worst Granger."

She narrowed her eyes, but a second later she shook her hear back from her shoulders and nodded once. "I want you to explain the process of revealing your memories to me... with the journals."

"Not a question."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. How or where did you learn to reveal your memories like that?"

"My mother." He answered and tried not to laugh at the heat in her stare.

"Forth section, index three." She reminded him, tapping the parchment between them. Draco sighed and shifted back into a sitting position feigning interest in the parchment. "All answers must include the specific mentioning of the subjected topic and be at minimal length of three sentences."

"Swot." He mumbled shaking his head, still smiling and wasn't surprised to see Hermione appear unfazed by his words as she cross her arms over her chest, tapping her finger on her arm impatiently. He hated that her stubbornness actually made his lower abdomen tighten in such a way he would never admit to anyone.

"The practiced magic of revealing ones memories is a branch of magic related to Occlumency. My mother taught me when I was very young... said magic involving memories, emotions, altering thoughts, guarding the mind is all very… _tedious_. I only just mastered the practice a year ago."

Hermione considered his answer and to his surprise, supplied an answer of her own.

"I read a lot on Occlumency when Harry was first starting to practice. I stumbled upon a story once… I believe it was recounted by a woman in Russia during the 18th century. The woman used a similar form of Occlumency to hide her truths in her paintings… She lived during the Russia Marriage Legislation where women, well girls, were subjected to marry and bare children incredibly young. She wished to hide her sisters existence from the authorities. She could show people if she wished to retrieve her thoughts and memories, but it never went into detail how because it, um—"

"Involves Dark Magic." Draco finished plainly. "I'm very aware of that, Granger."

She was silent for a beat, picking at the edge of his jumper by her wrist.

"Is that why you passed out?"

"No," he stifled a laugh shrugging, "that would just be pure exhaustion. Haven't been sleeping much and the magic it takes to preform the spell is very draining on one's magical core if they don't regularly use Dark Magic."

She nodded, her brow furrowing together. His wand hand twitched to use magic to search her mind, but he only curled his hand into a fist knowing his chance for questions was coming.

"You've got two more questions, Granger."

"Right…" She said seemingly returning from a trance. "Um, so I want to sort out what I think I saw in the memory and you can just answer yes or no if I'm correct. You can choose to elaborate if you feel obligated to do so."

"Alright."

"You-Know-Who sent you to retrieve information, which means he trusts you and you've gained favor in his ranks…"

Draco tensed but she appeared to only just be getting started.

"You obtained Bill's memories and hid them from You-Know-Who and the others. Then from what you gathered in the memory you still had questions so you sent me books that you believed would help me sort out why Bill was at Gingott's… and then you left Bill to show up here whenever Parkinson triggered the Floo entrance."

"Not exactly." Draco said, grinding his teeth together at the vast amount of holes in her story, but suddenly aware that he would have to fill them in. "Yes, the Dark Lord trusts me, well as much as a sadistic murderous Overlord would be expected to... and I did hide what I found. I hoped you would tell me why Weasley was snooping around with Goblins and why there was one at the cottage, but I didn't leave him to remain a prisoner."

Hermione's look of concern plunged into his chest and he dropped his gaze.

"I obliviated him and sent him to France, Beauxbatons to be exact." He was rubbing his head, wincing as he touched the place his head hit the floor earlier.

"You obliviated him and sent him to Beauxbatons?" She repeated and then tilted her head slightly. "Wait— How did you know—"

"The woman in Bill's memory, Fleur Delacour, I recognized her from the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I remembered her sister still attends school there."

Hermione was silent for a beat and couldn't help but lift her brows at him. Draco thought she looked… impressed… grateful?

"I was just covering my tracks Granger." He quickly amended, but the small smile on her face didn't falter.

"Still… there were other ways to be rid of him and you chose not to do them."

Draco shrugged, picking at the carpet below him, keeping his stare down, mumbling, "Considered it…"

He only glanced up when he heard a soft laugh escape her. He sighed, suddenly impatient with waiting for his turn to ask the questions.

"You've still got another question Granger."

"Why all of the books referencing Goblins?"

"Thought that was fairly obvious." He said and then remembered that she hadn't exactly concentrated on the memory he revealed to her. "Well, Gringott's is obviously guarded by Goblins, so knowing the intricacies of their security and how Weasley managed to outsmart them seemed a fairly good question to consider… and that Goblin, Griphook, was at the cottage with Potter and Weasley. Doesn't that seem— I don't know, odd to you?"

Hermione frowned, pulling her bottom lip under her tooth. Draco's gaze immediately followed the action and remained there until she spoke, and heat instantly spread to his face.

"Bill worked as a curse-breaker for Gringott's for a time, perhaps he still had some pull to gain entry..."

She was silent for several more moments and the look on her face turned inward, concentrated.

"Griphook lied for us." She finally said. Draco had no clue what she was talking about. As if sensing this she continued, "When Bellatrix asked if the sword was a fake. He knew it was the real Sword of Gryffindor, but he lied."

"Why would he do that?"

"I don't know…" She shook her head, and Draco thought if he leaned forward slightly he would hear the gears clicking in her mind as she searched for an answer.

"Did he want something in return?"

"What could he possibly think a couple of teenagers on the run could offer him—" She cut herself off and the confusion on her face slowly shifted into surprised realization. "Unless…"

Draco grimaced as she seemed to be mumbling with herself, lost in thought.

"Share with the class Granger."

"Well, I suppose he would want the Sword. That's the only thing I could imagine making much sense. It's Goblin-wrought iron, very valuable…"

"He _was_ eyeing it particularly close in the memory."

"What?" Her head shot up to look at him.

"At the cottage. The sword and the dagger my aunt used were there and Griphook's focus seemed strangely fixated on the sword, and considering how loud Weasley was wailing, like a wild banshee in heat, I found it hard to concentrate on much else so I've got no idea how Griphook managed—"

He was cut off by a slap to his knee.

"What was that for?!" He asked in shock at why she suddenly felt the need to abuse him.

"Ron was traumatized. He thinks I'm dead."

"Yeah, well, he could have been quieter about it…" Draco mumbled rubbing his knee as he glared at her.

She shook her head and sighed.

"So you think Griphook is the answer to finding Harry?"

"Ah, ah witch— You're three questions have been answered." Draco said smugly, his eyebrows flicking up and down twice. "It's my turn."

Her scowl remained as she flicked her hand to indicate her permission for him to begin.

He took his time though— he already knew his first question before he even started this mock contractual obligation to get information from each other.

He took in the small details of his room that were effected by the infuriating girl sitting only a foot away now. He glanced over the bedside table where a book lay open, and then on the bed where she slept, where she shed more than one hair on his pillows. He knew if he ever got the pleasure of enjoying his own bed again it would smell of her. The sent was invading him as he pretended to ponder before her. She was tapping her fingers impatiently, her eyes scanning his face.

He smiled over at her, lifting a brow. "You're sure you want to play this game Granger?"

She rolled her eyes.

"As if I'm afraid to tell you anything Malfoy. Besides it's not as if you could tell anyone." She said smugly, shrugging arrogantly as a smirk grew on her lips like a true Slytherin. "Everyone believes I'm dead."

He sighed, knowing the conversation was about to turn for the darker truths they've been harboring.

"What do you think my aunt is hiding in her vault?"

He watched as her smugness faltered and her eyes flashed to the side before meeting his again. He lifted his brow, leaning slightly towards her. He watched her shoulders tense.

"Oh and you aren't permitted any passes, as per section who the fuck remembers, index 5 point I don't care."

She huffed in aggravation as he leaned to the side putting his weight on his elbow once more, smirking up at her. She mumbled, "Insufferable git…"

He shrugged and waited for her to answer. The moment she pulled her bottom lip under her tooth in concentration once more Draco darted his eyes away, swallowing deeply trying to ignore the longing to touch her lips. He leaned back so that his stare was focused on the ceiling, lacing his fingers behind his head. He could feel her eyes roaming over his outstretched body and felt oddly satisfied that she had the instinct to do so.

"I'm waiting…"

"How _well_ do you know You-Know-Who?" She asked timidly.

He shot up to lean on his elbow searching her expression, not sure if she was serious.

"Oh well, I'd say we're practically best mates. We have tea and catch up on the latest gossip almost every week and I even think he's inviting me to a fun murdering ceremony towards the end of the month— so yeah, fairly close. Why do you ask Granger?"

"Ha, ha." She added dryly, though a smile tugged at her mouth.

"Well, that's what you get when you deviate from the rules." He returned, enjoying their lighter banter as apposed to her glaring at him.

"Rules?"

"Yes, three questions— three answers— Honestly, you came up with this absurd arrangement of swapping information, it's embarrassing that I have to explain this to you."

"Those weren't rules. They are guidelines."

She glared at him again, but this time without contempt. She sighed and seemed to fidget with her sleeve for several moments to sort through what she was going to say. She shifted, causing her legs to stretch before her, his sweater itched up her thighs and he used all of his concentration to focus on the parchment between them. She shifted back to rest on the ottoman behind her and Draco moved to do the same so they were sitting side by side.

"If I'm going to answer that question then I also need to tell you what Harry, Ron and I were doing when the snatchers found us and brought us here..."

He opened his mouth to make an inappropriate retort— something along the lines of 'spare me the details of your dreadful threesome with Potter and the Weasel'—but thought better of it, instead nodding at her to continue.

"When the Ministry fell near the start of August Harry, Ron, and I were forced to flee and we've been living on the run ever since—looking for something... something that belongs to You-Know-Who. "

She seemed to be contemplating how to word her explanation, and Draco couldn't help but feel like she was doing this out of fear of telling him too much.

"Granger." He finally said, the words 'you can trust me' on the tip of his tongue, but instead he said, "Just tell me."

She nodded and looked down at her hands, where she was pulling at the sleeve of his over-sized jumper she seemed to enjoy wearing more than the flimsy nightgown. He followed her gaze and kept them there as her soft voice filled the room.

"We were in the Forest of Dean when Harry accidentally activated the taboo."

Draco lifted his eyes to her face to see a sad smile creeping across her face and her eyes glossed over, tears on the verge of falling. His fingers flexed in front of him, twitching to reach out to her but he didn't. He set his jaw firmly as she lifted her head, glancing around the room as if looking at a lost memory. She shook her head and a weak laugh escaped her lips as she inhaled deeply.

"What is it?" Draco said just above a whisper. He noticed the confusion in her eyes as she looked over at him, his voice sounded different to him too— smaller somehow.

"When it was just me and Harry—" her voice broke and she cleared her throat "— I remember telling him we should have just stayed there, grow old," she shrugged and inhaled once, "the forest was so peaceful and it would have been easy to pretend nothing's changed there, you know?"

She looked over at him, if she expected him to agree he wasn't sure, but he did. It was what he was doing by staying here, instead of fighting like he knew he should. He was being safe— numbly surviving and serving the Dark Lord out of fear for his mother's fate, his own, and now Granger's too.

If he could prevent her from being stuck here... if he was given the chance to keep her safe... but wasn't that what Weasley's memory was giving him…?

"Perhaps you should have..."

He hadn't realized he said this aloud, until he felt her shoulder nudge into his. He glanced over at her to find a surprising, playful smirk on her lips.

"And miss the chance to witness Draco Malfoy wearing fuzzy pink socks?" She lifted her brows and shook her head with a small smile. "Not a chance."

He mirrored her expression, feigning an expression of being insulted; ignoring the slightly racing speed of his pulse.

"First of all, Theo would be insulted by your inability to distinguish that the precise shade of these socks, which he gave to me as a gift I might add, is anything other than cerise; secondly... what do you have against pink socks?"

She shrugged, "Nothing at all. In fact... I would say they suit you, though I'm afraid your head may explode if I add to your already inflating ego."

He found himself genuinely smiling as a blush rose to her cheeks, his eyes glancing down to her playful smirk. He quickly tore his eyes away and let out a small laugh, slightly mesmerized with the light, warm feeling spreading within his chest. He appreciated her trying to keep the conversation light, but he was determined to figure out what she knew. The more he knew, the better chance he had of helping her— himself... helping himself be free of the Dark Lord. That's why he was doing this right?

"So, uh... You said it was just you and Potter?" He asked and she looked away nodding, the playfulness in her expression fading.

"Yes, there was a short time Ron decided he didn't want to be away from his family any longer."

"So he just abandoned the two of you?"

She didn't say anything for a moment and he wondered if she would notice if he looked into her mind right then. All of the distress in her voice and posture were driving him mad with not knowing what she was thinking.

"He came back eventually." She said flatly, not supplying anymore than that as if asking him to drop it— so he did.

"Why the Forest of Dean?" He asked instead and he almost wished he hadn't.

The tears she was holding back were still sitting on her bottom lashes and as he asked this, one streamed slowly down her cheek, but her voice remained evenly like she was trying to remain strong.

The sight of it awakening the firm grasp she seemed to have on his heart, tugging it forward.

"My parents used to take me there when I was little. We would camp near the river." She explained and he nodded, taring his eyes away from her as she firmly wiped the liquid from her face with the back of her hand. Just when he thought she wouldn't share anymore she began to speak again. "I obliviated my parents before we decided to start searching for what we were looking for. They wouldn't remember the Forest if they returned... or me."

He sat up at her words, feeling like the grasp on his heart squeezed until there was nothing left and searched her face for any trace of anger but found none. He put it together quickly enough and he fought the urge to stand up and whisk her to wherever her parents were in that moment. She did it to protect them— from him, a Death Eater who wanted all muggles and Muggleborns dead, and she was strong enough to sacrifice her happiness to keep them safe from him.

His throat burned with disgust thinking of her standing in front of her parents, forcing them to forget her. It wasn't right. They deserved to know she existed. Wasn't that the reason he saved her after all? Because he couldn't imagine a world where she didn't exist— someone as brilliantly defiant and stubborn and—

There was a battle raging inside him as his thoughts entered his mind. The first, to take her directly to her parents and give her the small comfort of knowing they were safe. The second, the more dominant thought, the selfish one that he ultimately gave in to— to comfort her the only way he could without leaving this room.

He didn't realize his arm had risen from where it lay between them, reaching around her and pulling her into him until it was too late to take it back. He felt her shoulders tense, her body going rigid at first until she seemed to give in to what was happening. Draco's once rapidly beating heart slowed suddenly and throbbed all at once. She dipped her shoulder so that it molded into his side and her head settled against the crook of his neck, causing her curls to brush against his nose and lips which he hadn't given permission to smile, but they were.

The smell of her overtaking his senses. It was the perfect balance of her floral aroma and his mahogany musk.

They remained like that for several moments. It was equally unsettling and comforting to know that they both were as unsure of what to make of this sudden affection as the other. Draco was grateful she said nothing about the awkwardness of it, knowing if she did he would remind himself of the shame he should be feeling for allowing her to take comfort in his touch.

He shut his eyes, knowing how much he would regret this later when it tormented him in his sleep and when he tried to hide this moment from his minds intruders... but for now he didn't bother caring— instead he tried to memorize the way her heartbeat felt pressed against his chest, fitting perfectly in his arms. The warmth of her breath tickling his throat. The soft fabric under his hand where he held her waist tracing soothing circles with his thumb. The feeling of his heartbeat thumping faster than he ever felt in his throat, ears, and chest.

He ignored the thoughts in his mind that told him she would prefer anyone else to be comforting her— that she was only accepting him here and now because she had no other choice.

Draco was certain he did not deserve for time to slow, to stretch and linger, as her silent sobs lulled him into a deep numbing bliss. Draco also knew, he wouldn't be the one to end the moment. If it were up to him they would remain this way forever and never leave his room again, but as if on cue he felt her soft curls pulling away as she tilted her head back revealing her tear stained cheeks with a blush creeping across them as her eyes met his. He swallowed, not wanting to speak first. He didn't trust himself not to say something that would make her pull away.

The side of her lips twitched and she breathed a soft laugh.

"I've ruined both your jumpers." She said nodding to where her tears stained the collar of his white jumper and the wrist of the one she wore.

Draco felt the warm twitch in his chest spread down his stomach and expand down as his eyes took in her swollen lips that were glistening from the trace of tears... his mind whirling with the desire to lick the salty taste that lingered there—

The feeling of her warmth leaving his side thankfully distracted him from letting his thoughts run away and he quickly tore his eyes away. She was blushing a bright red color now and avoiding looking at him. He removed his arm from around her, glancing down and quickly and adjusted his pants pulling at the fabric near his knees, shifting slightly away from her. He inwardly cursed himself, hoping she was oblivious to the reaction she enticed out of him. He cleared his throat and felt an awkward smile twitch on his face. He wanted to roll his eyes at himself.

_Why was he acting like an inexperienced wanker? _

_Because you got a hard on just by grazing Hermione Granger's skin._

He grimaced at his internal monologue and decided it was time to place his vines back into place, if only to save him from his own internal cringing—

"I'm sorry…" She said lightly, smiling at him. "I've been holding that in for awhile and... it felt nice to finally let it out."

He just nodded and concentrated on lifting each vine, tracing his way backwards through his minds maze, but she was determined to distract him.

"Thank you for that."

His mouth twitched. "Sure."

"So..." She said inhaling deeply. "Where were we?"

"You were avoiding answering my question."

She laughed, "Oh, right..."

"Why don't we just skip to the part where you tell me what you three were looking for?"

Her expression concentrated slightly, but the guarded expression was no longer there. Draco found himself unable to notice the look was a similar expression she wore whenever their professors would ask her a question. Back then he would roll his eyes and make a comment about her insufferable ways, but now he found it intoxicating—

"What do you know about Horcruxes?"

He almost choked on his breath as he waited for her to be joking, but her expression didn't waver. He felt his features draw in a similar expression and tried to remember everything he knew about the Dark magic. He considered her question a moment longer and the realization occurred to him that she mentioned searching for something of Voldemort's—

"You mean to tell me that you three were hunting down parts of the Dark Lord's soul? Alone?" He could hear the disbelief in his own voice and he hoped she heard it for what it was, that it was fucking mental—

"You know about Horcruxes?"

"Of course I bloody know! You do know who my father is, don't you? He's one of the most well studied of Dark Magic second to the Dark Lord himself. There's at least fifty books in our library explaining the complexities of tearing apart one's soul."

Her eyes opened wide and he knew what she was thinking. He rolled his eyes.

"Fuck's sake Granger— no, you can't borrow them!"

She dropped her shoulders and her lips turned down pouting. It wasn't enough to distract him from the nonsense she was talking, but his eyes did flicker to her mouth.

"So did you already know about them then? Do you know where they're located?"

The excitement in her voice reminded him how oblivious she could be sometimes.

"It was difficult to miss— with the whole returning from the dead several times over bit."

His sarcasm didn't hinder her excitement, aggravating him further. He didn't mention that Snape had mentioned the dark magic to him once, without really telling him why. Eventually Draco made sense of it himself and paid closer attention to Voldemort's seemingly immortality. Surprised that the others were oblivious to it, or simply to afraid to question it.

"Malfoy— if you know where they are then that means once we figure out where Harry is—"

"No." He said firmly, standing to his feet to look down at her. Unsure of what to make of her referring to them as 'we'— "You're completely mental. Listen to yourself Granger. Do you really think the Dark Lord disclosed that kind of information to me— or anyone else for that matter? I may know they exist, but that's just because I'm not a moron. You'll never figure out where they are— not to mention how many even exist—"

"Seven, if you include You-Know-Who as the first."

The confidence in her tone, made him shut his mouth instantly considering her. He narrowed his eyes, asking flatly, "How do you know that?"

"Dumbledore." She said and he knew she didn't miss the way he visibly flinched at hearing his name, but she didn't acknowledge it. "He knew about the Horcruxes all along and told Harry everything he knew before he died. We've already destroyed three of them."

Draco moved to sit again, his legs suddenly feeling weak. He leaned forward placing his head in his hands inhaling deeply and then turning to look at her with exhaustion drenched in his tone, "I think you need to start from the beginning Granger."


	9. 3 Questions & 3 Answers (Pt II)

**A/N: **For all of you lovely people concerned about Draco and Pansy— I assure you it will make sense soon enough. Draco has no romantic feelings for her, but he does care for her as a friend and feels responsible for what's happened to her (as you will soon discover). I just wanted to put that out there because DRAMIONE will always end game :)

**A/N: pt. II — **The timeline of DH is slightly adjusted in this Fic… Early April is when the trio arrived at Malfoy Manor and it's roughly around end of April during this chapter— every significant date moving forward will not line up with the books!

And now back to the angsty, awkward, sexual tension that is Dramione… also, I have made Pinterest boards and Spotify Playlists for this Fic specifically if anyone would like me to share them just let me know in the reviews!

* * *

Had the topic not been so incredibly important Draco was certain that he wouldn't have heard a word she said, as he was far too aware of every small gesture Hermione made as she paced in front of him. His attention was constantly directed to the animated use of her hands, to the articulate way her lips curved around each word, to the way down to her bare feet shuffled across his immaculate carpet and up to her soft curls shaping her face that seemed to have a mind of their own whenever she would turn from one end of her pacing path to the other. All of that would have been extremely distracting for Draco had she not been explaining something so impossibly terrifying.

Hermione realized, as she retold her perspective of the story, that there would be no going back after this. As if to remind her how much has shifted between her and Draco, the parts of her skin where his fingers rested moments ago seemed to be vibrating in a way she had never felt before. She would feel her face warm every time she glanced over at where he was sitting and catch his eyes entirely focused on her. The sudden shift in tension aside, she couldn't help but feel eager to tell him everything she knew about Voldemort and his Horcruxes. It made her feel useful again, plotting it all out, searching for anything she may have overlooked.

Though, she wasn't sure which was making her heart race faster: the opportunity to feel useful again or when she would sense Malfoy's gaze flickering away from her eyes and down her body when he thought she wasn't looking. She was finding that so much of what she was discovering about Malfoy

since she arrived here was derailing every prior assumption she made of him, it was confusing and unnerving to say the least. Confusing, because she often found herself thinking fondly of the person he was revealing to her— and unnerving, because she worried what this shift would mean once they were outside these walls._ Would she regret telling him their secrets? Would Harry understand why she felt she could trust him?_

She told him the condensed version of what happened with the diary and what really happened in the Chamber of Secrets, with Dumbledore and the Gaunt ring— and about the locket and how it was destroyed, avoiding certain details involving Ron abandoning them and returning with some mental story about hearing her voice. She was still upset with him and felt betrayed because of it. The last thing she needed was to worry about her relationship with Ron, so she was intentionally ignoring the pain she felt whenever she was reminded of his actions.

She was finishing her explanation of why she thought the next Horcrux was in Bellatrix's vault now, surprised that Malfoy didn't interrupt her once.

She stopped pacing just before him with her arms over her chest trying to gauge his reaction. His eyes were drawn down at his hands, where his fingers were twisting the silver ring on his finger. Her cheeks burned as the thought of his fingers on her skin forced its way into her mind. She shook the thought and cleared her throat. She was about to open her mouth to ask if he heard a single word she just said when he lifted his eyes to hers, a settled expression of uncertainty on his features.

"I could get into her vault."

She felt her jaw shut tightly as she starred at him, ignoring the way her heartbeat seemed to quicken as he lifted from where he sat and stood just before her.

"To my knowledge all of the Black family vaults are accessed the same way." He explained slowly, taking another step closer. "Only someone with the blood of Black running through their veins can enter her vault, and I'm sure my mother—" he seemed to pause as if he remembered something, and then continued, "— she would be able to confirm how to access the vault…"

"Y-You would do that?" Hermione couldn't help but ask him, taking a step forward with her eyes wide, hopeful… it seemed almost as ridiculous as him risking his life to save her— but he already done that— hadn't he?

He was silent for a moment, keeping his gaze down. A heavy silence settled between them and Hermione could practically feel the tension pressing around her in all directions. The color of grey in his eyes caught her off guard when he finally lifted his eyes to her— they were entirely silver now, reminding her of crystalline rocks that formed near a deserted seaside; intriguingly beautiful from afar, breath-taking up close and vastly more dangerous.

"I think you'll find I'm pretty reckless these days Granger. You've clearly tarnished my sensibilities with your Gryffindor proclivity by proximity."

She adverted her gaze down as a smile stretched across her face.

"There's something else…" He waited for her to glance back up at him, "I didn't include it in the memory because I wasn't sure what to make of my mother's involvement, but if I'm doing this then you should know everything…"

"Your mother?"

He nodded.

"Earlier in Weasley's memory, right before he was caught, he sent a message to Potter... a message that warned him who the last person to visit Bellatrix's vault was— he saw her signature on the visitors log." He said, glancing down at his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Hermione was certain she had never seen him fidget before. "I overheard my aunt and my mother speaking the other night, Bellatrix asked my mother if she checked on something and my mother responded that it was safe— it was safe in her vault at Gringotts. She checked herself."

Hermione couldn't ignore the disappointment in his voice, but wasn't sure if he felt it towards his mother or himself.

"She's currently visiting her cousins in France for further recruitment. When she returns I will see what information I can get."

"Is that— Well, won't that be sort of, um, suspicious— to be suddenly interested in her vault?"

His signature smirked across his face, though it didn't meet his eyes.

"You forget, Granger— obtaining information is somewhat of my specialty these days. Keeping secrets, keeping things hidden… I have the misfortune of being filled with information most people spend their entire life hiding."

Though there was a smirk on his lips Hermione could see the weariness in his features, the sight tugging at her chest.

Where she was once envious of his use of Occlumency, she now found herself unsure if she should be grateful that she had no need to rely on such magic. It seemed to be eating away at him, the need to keep his guard up, but he was too used to it's safety to even be aware of the effects it was having on him. Hermione read a lot about the overuse of such magic, it caused ones magical core to drain faster over time, but normally only after decades of use would one begin to see the effects. It concerned her that Draco relied on Occlumency enough to already begin to see the fatigue set in. If one's magical core began to drain and they continued to use Occlumency it made a witch or wizard unpredictable— the side effects often being extreme and rapid fatigue, lack of control over ones magic, loss of memory—

"That must be pretty draining…" She offered timidly, hoping that she wasn't crossing any boundaries with what she was about to say. "…carrying around so many secrets."

She saw the flash of confusion in his eyes and his shoulders fall slightly. He cleared his throat, adverting his eyes.

"It's necessary."

She wanted to tell him it was only necessary as long as he remained on this side of the war, but suppressed the urge, knowing the effect it may have on him being so willing to share information with her.

"Alright." She said eventually, with a nod and determination set in her shoulders, "I want to go with you."

"Sorry?"

"When you break into Gringott's and steal the Horcrux you'll need my help. You have no idea what to look for—"

"Absolutely not."

"And why is that?" She firmly placed her arms across her chest lifting her chin.

He scoffed, "Well, for one, and probably the most obvious reason, you're supposed to be dead—"

"Are you a wizard or aren't you? Polyjuice, disillusionment charms… both viable options."

Draco glared at her then, his jaw set.

"There are far too many variables to consider."

"Well, it's convenient that I happen to be wonderful at finding solutions to said variables."

Draco's glare didn't falter.

"Granger. There is absolutely no way in hell that I will allow it."

"Allow it?"

"Yes. Allow it! I've managed to keep you hidden this long because of what I have and have not allowed."

Hermione had to remind herself that she was meant to be building trust between them and not arguing over what they each deemed worthy of risk or not. She understood his reasoning, to some extent, and she supposed it would be foolish to risk being caught before finding Harry…

She inhaled deeply and then released it, only slightly calming her growing frustration.

"Point made."

She wasn't sure what she was expecting him to say then, but it certainly wasn't what came out of his mouth next. _He sounded… almost… guilty?_

"Look, I know this situation is less than ideal. You're meant to be off saving the fucking wizarding world with Potter and you're stuck here, feeling useless, but I—" his eyes shut tightly as he sighed, forcing the next words out, "I am trying to make it suck _less_— you being here that is."

She couldn't help herself, it felt as if he was still holding back something from her. She took another step closer, forcing him to raise his gaze to hers.

"…because it's _necessary_?"

She hoped he heard the disbelief in her tone. He swallowed and nodded, his voice sounded strained, "Exactly."

"Well, if it means anything I think you've managed…" She shrugged. "… to make it _suck less_ I mean. The books were a nice touch."

A breathy laugh escaped him as he lifted his palm to cover his mouth, shaking his head.

"You've still got two more questions. I've got a million to get to so let's get on with it, hm?" She reminded him and moved past him, their shoulders brushing as she did so, and sat on the ottoman near the end of the bed.

He turned slowly and smirked down at her, joining her on the ottoman.

"You're quiet bossy for a prisoner."

She felt her lip twitch into a smile, but refused to give him the satisfaction. "Did you expect anything less from me?"

"Absolutely not." He grimaced at her beaming smile. "Alright, second question—"

Hermione straightened her back and nodded that she was ready.

"I'm assuming you've devoured the books I sent at least twice by now?"

"Is that a serious question?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Right, well, were they useful at all?"

Hermione shrugged, "Well, yes. I suppose… the medical texts were informative, but it became very clear that hardly anyone survives this type of curse without loosing their magical abilities— which is not ideal."

"I won't let that happen."

Hermione lifted her eyes to his and held them there for several moments. She offered him a small smile.

"I believe you." She noticed the corner of his eye twitch and an emotion flicker behind them before he looked away.

The slight reveal reminding her that he'd let his Occlumency guard down. She wasn't sure what to make of that.

"As for the Goblin texts they were… _entertaining_, though I was aware of most of the information already, as you should be. Professor Binns entire preparation course for 4th year O.W.L.S was concentrated on the Goblin Rebellions of the Eighteenth Century. I'm not sure how you could forget those awful weekly essays he required us to do… I actually _enjoy_ homework and even I remember thinking it was a bit too dull of a topic to write about weekly."

Draco scoffed, "How you were able to listen to that boring old ghost at all without falling asleep is beyond me."

Hermione was instantly reminded of Harry and Ron in that moment. She felt the tugging in her chest that often came unannounced to remind her that they believed she was dead. It was becoming more difficult to repress the heavy guilt that seemed to be residing deep in the pit of her stomach.

"What was your question exactly?" She asked, shifting her attention back to Draco.

He lifted his hands and shoved them through his hair and rubbing them down his face, keeping them there as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

His hands muffling his words, "I don't bloody know— I half expected you to create some correlation between Weasley's memory and the bloody Goblin nonsense. It just seemed to be shouting at me at the time: Griphook in Weasley's memory, Gringotts, the sword, all of it having a Goblins involvement in common…"

He sighed and dropped his hands from his face to clasp them out in front of him.

"I understand now that I was probably being ridiculous and most certainly shouldn't have been allowed to make decisions. I fucking saved a _Weasley_ so there's a clear sign that I wasn't in any practical state of mind.

"As I've stated previously, I haven't slept much and I think my thought process was effected and as a result, convinced myself that Goblins and locating Potter being connected was completely rational, when in fact, turns out it is actually just _mental _really—"

"Wait—" Hermione said, cutting him off. His words registering something in her mind—

Her hand darted out to grip his forearm and he instinctively flinched away. Her fingers felt like fire the moment they gripped the Dark Mark. He was sure it was only in his head, and he immediately registered the hurt that crossed her features at his reaction, but it only remained for a spilt second before she was lifting herself to her feet and moving to the scattered books on the floor.

Draco watched as she manically searched through the books until she found the one she wanted. He quickly moved to join her, kneeling beside her to look over her shoulder.

"Say it again—" she said without looking from the book, her fingers quickly flipping through each page.

"Say what?" Draco asked suddenly feeling just as anxious as she seemed. He wasn't sure what to make of the emotion completely overcoming him out of no where. _It felt overwhelming, terrifying, and he wanted it to stop. What was happening to him?_

"The last thing— you said something about Goblins and locating Harry— you said— ah ha!"

The wide grin that formed on her face quickly faltered as she turned to her right where Draco was kneeling beside her, noticing that he was gripping his chest, fingers wrapped tightly around the fabric of his shirt and his eyes shut tight. Hermione noticed his breathing was uneven. She moved to touch his arm again, but instantly thought better of it.

"Malfoy." She said softly. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

His eyes opened and Hermione instantly recognized the slight glaze in his stare fog over. His breathing settled and suddenly he looked entirely too calm for someone who looked on the verge of a panic attack two seconds ago. The emptiness in his stare returned. _He was Occluding something. Was it her touch? Is that what caused him to want to bury his emotions? _

"Malfoy. Are you—"

"I'm fine."

His jaw clenched and he reached for the book in her hand, leaning towards her and his chest brushed her shoulder. Hermione felt like someone just dipped her in the Blake Lake in January. It gave a whole new meaning to the phrase cold shoulder. She shivered as he leaned back on his heels and read over the chapter she had it opened to.

His eyes flicked up to hers, she could practically feel the hollow void growing, luring her in until she thought she might feel the numbness too.

"Well?"

Hermione shook the unsettling feeling away and focused her attention back on the book.

"Y-You mentioned locating Harry and it made me think—" She leaned over, settling herself onto her knees as he was and placed her finger on the far page of the book as he held it open. When she tilted her head to the side to look at Malfoy she found his eyes roaming across her face and she tried not to focus on the heat it created in her stomach. She turned back to the text.

"This book largely focuses on the magical _restrictions _ for Goblins, but it also briefly mentions the sort of magic that only Goblins are capable of." She couldn't help but smile as Draco scanned the text where her finger was. She brought her hand away and waited until he found what she was so excited about.

He turned his head to face her, his brow furrowed in concentration. She tucked her lip under her tooth trying to suppress her smile. Another moment passed and she noticed the hollowness in his eyes begin to fill again, his shoulders relaxed slightly. Hermione hardly noticed she inhaled a sharp breath, but found the stark contrast and transformation of Draco while he was Occluding and Draco while he was not, much like whiplash. She slightly registered that this wasn't normal, _one's ability to Occlude shouldn't be so sporadic…_

He seemed to be wrestling internally with himself on what he wanted to say next as his eyes flicked from her eyes to her mouth and back again. Eventually, to Hermione it felt an entire eternity later, he swallowed and a small smirk stretched on his lips.

"I knew I was right all along."

Hermione rolled her eyes, though she was smiling too. "Your impossible."

"Oh, most definitely, but that doesn't change the fact that I am, in fact, always correct."

"Five seconds ago you were rambling on, claiming you were unsuitable to be trusted due to your lack of sleep."

"Was I?" He shrugged, his brows lifting innocently. "I don't recall."

She sighed, not able to keep up with his mood swings. The rush of happiness flooded her all over as she scanned the text still in his hands. A smile forming across her features.

"You know what this means don't you? We've found our answer on how to locate Harry!"

"Or at the very least Griphook…" Draco corrected.

"I'm going to try and remain optimistic and believe that they are still together."

Draco scoffed. "Well, I'm going to remain on the side of caution and, you know, the more likely outcome— and think it won't be that simple to find Potter."

"I'd expect no less from you Malfoy." She teased and nudged his shoulder with hers, noticing this time he didn't flinch. Ignoring the way his eyes lingered on her mouth she inhaled and brought her eyes back to the book. "So the text clearly says that a Goblin's magical core, similar to an Elves, is, in a way, tethered to those of their same species, giving them the ability to not only locate other Goblins, but recognize every place they've ever been— sort of like the ability to create a map that traces out a path of where they've been and when they where there… it's— it's fascinating magic really…"

She glanced over at Draco to find him watching her closely, making her blush. Then he grimaced.

"What is it?"

Draco sighed, "I'm going to have to kidnap a bloody Goblin aren't I?"

Hermione laughed at his pained expression. "Kidnapping is bit of a dramatic take on it… You could simply ask for their help."

Draco lifted a brow and after a moment of thought she nodded.

"Right, Death Eater… I would imagine they wouldn't be very willing."

"I'll figure something out."

They were both silent for several moments. The realization that they were actually forming a plan to find Harry was screaming inside Hermione's head and she couldn't ignore the anticipation rising within her.

"And when you do figure something out…" she started, slowly turning her head to his, "… what does that mean for us?"

"Us?" He repeated and she felt her heart skip in her chest.

"I-I mean me." She quickly amended. "Once you have what you need to find Harry, what happens then?"

It was the same question they always seemed to fumble back to, both equally as uncertain if they truly wanted to hear the answer.

"You said earlier that you wanted me to show you what to do next…" She said slowly, reminding him of his earlier confession. It was clear that he wanted to help her or he wouldn't be sitting here trying to form a plan, but she had a suspicion that there was still something he wasn't telling her— "I want to…"

She heard the words whisper in her mind but couldn't bring herself to say them; _But only if you promise to let me go…_

The following words were far louder in her mind, unsure what to make of them; _But _ _only if you promise to come with me…_

Because did she really know what he wanted? Sure, he was helping her now, but when the moment came to actually fight and abandon the safety he created amongst the darkness— would he?

He said nothing as his eyes roamed her face again. She found that she hated the effect this had on her, as she was sure he could see the blush forming over her skin.

"It's become very clear that I can't keep you here forever." He admitted with little acceptance and she looked up to see his features drawn in, like the thought was uncomfortable to consider.

_But did that mean he intended to let her go? And if he did what did that mean for him? _

Then something flickered in his expression, the desperate longing of hope lighting his features that reminded her of Harry whenever he needed her help, and knowing that she would help him without hesitation, without considering any other possibility…

He held her stare, the intensity of it piercing her lungs and it felt difficult to breath. No matter how many times he showed this vulnerable side of himself to her she couldn't seem to recoil from the shock of it. It felt ten times more delicate knowing that this was _Draco Malfoy _ allowing her to witness this part of him.

She watched the lump in his throat rise as he swallowed before tilting his head towards hers, locking her gaze on his. He slowly lifted his hand towards her face until he gently placed it on the side of her throat, directly under her ear. The feeling of his fingers ebbing through her hair and his thumb softly tracing along her jaw back a forth caused a warm feeling to ignite inside her chest, her breathing began to slow. The unsettling realization that she enjoyed his touch lingered somewhere in the back of her mind, but forgotten the moment his voice hummed through the silence.

"It's also become very clear—," he whispered, his lips inching closer to hers, "—that the moment I decided to save you was the moment I decided to save myself too."

His words felt like lava slashing around her brain, burning every other thought in their path until they were all that were left—

_I decided to save myself too…_

Which to her sounded an awful lot like—

_Where you go, I'm going too… _

She wanted to question it. She wanted to allow the thoughts in the back of her mind that were being drowned by the heat of his words to outweigh the way he was looking at her, touching her… the thoughts that reminded her that this was Draco Malfoy and she couldn't— _shouldn't_ be feeling every inch of her skin itch with desire, shouldn't enjoy the sensations pulsing in her chest down to her core...

Hermione could feel her chest rising slowly and falling in the beat it took for his words to settle between them, her eyes unable to look anywhere else besides his mouth as the hand tangled in her hair gently pulled her forward pausing just as their breath mingled between them, as if waiting for her permission.

Just as her eyes fluttered shut, conceding to the desire to explore the sudden electricity that seemed to increase with every look they shared, the sound of a loud 'pop' followed by another 'pop' caused them both to turn their heads to front of the room. She felt Draco's hand drop from her skin, vaguely aware how much she enjoyed the warmth once it was gone.

"Annnnnnd this—" Theo drawled,"—is why we knock, Blaise." A smirk formed over his narrow face, mischief dancing behind his green eyes as he shoved his hands into his black trousers and strode towards Hermione and Draco. His brows lifting as he turned to Hermione, bouncing once on his toes like a giddy child, "Hello, so lovely to see we're making the best of a shitty situation, Granger."

Hermione felt her ribcage ache from the need to keep her heart and lungs from bursting through, as both organs seemed unable to adjust to the sudden acceleration in her breathing. Bringing her fingers to her lips, confusion beginning to cloud the realization that Theo and Blaise were watching her with a mixed expression of amusement and intrigue. Her eyes darted to Draco who was glaring at the two intruders and she had to rip her eyes away from him. Her mind was repeating simple facts to attempt to rationalize what was happening._ That is Draco Malfoy_. _He was about to kiss you… You, Hermione Granger. _ _And you wanted him to…_

* * *

**Hogwarts**

_1 Hour Earlier…_

Ginny Weasley was an incredibly observant witch. She attributed her keen observation skills to her overactive paranoia that developed as a result of having six older brothers, three of which who were determined to pick on their baby sister relentlessly, using her as their test subject of sorts with different pranks during their childhood, though such pranks have become more of a distant memory than a normal occurrence now that she returned to Hogwarts, she still knew she'd never lose her keen ability to pay special attention to suspicious behavior. The decision to return had nothing to do with her desires... if it were up to her she'd be off doing whatever it was Harry, Ron, and Herminoe decided to run off and do without telling anyone, but it was her parents insistence to keep her and her brothers safe, or as safe as they thought they would be— _because a castle full of innocent students would never be targeted by Death Eaters again…_

Ginny rolled her eyes at the thought, but quickly adjusted her attention to the group of Slytherins stalking through the corridors, clearly not wanting to be seen. This wasn't her first time following them and she was determined to figure out what they were up to, even if it meant getting caught by the Carrows and forced to have one of her classmates 'teach her a lesson of respect', or what is commonly known to most witches and wizards the Cruciatus Curse.

The shifty, quick redhead inwardly applauded her Quidditch reflexes as she dove into an alcove to keep herself hidden as one the figures she was following turned around, eyes searching as if they heard someone.

"What is it Nott? Your overly anxious fidgeting is really becoming bothersome—"

Ginny grimaced at the voice, the very feminine tone grated at the red-haired witches nerves.

"I thought I heard footsteps." Theodore Nott. Ginny was very familiar with that voice as it had been the very voice who spoke the last curse that caused her to writhe in pain on the stone floor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Heat surged through her veins, but she only clenched her fist around her wand, ready for a fight if necessary.

"If there was someone following us Daphne or I would have heard it. Now stop being so paranoid. It's causing wrinkles."

There was silence that stretched on for a moment too long and Ginny wasn't certain why she no longer heard footsteps. _Had they remained in the hall or had they placed a silencing charm so no one could hear their footsteps? _

Just as Ginny moved to confirm if either theory was correct she slammed into a hard surface knocking her backwards into another hard surface, this one with a hand— a large hand that was firmly clasped over her mouth. Her eyes widened in horror as her wand was summoned from her grip and she fought whoever was holding her firmly to their chest with little success.

A second later Theodore Nott moved in her line of sight along with Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson trailing behind.

"Well, well, well—" Nott smirked down at her and she tried to shift her elbow into the gut of whoever was holding her, all she could see was a large dark-skinned hand that was still firmly over her mouth, his other hand wrapped tightly around her waist. "Looks like the she-weasel has a proclivity for being where she ought not to be." His eyes darted past her to look at the person behind her. "What do you say, Zabini? Should we show mercy this once?"

Blaise Zabini, who she now realized was the one holding her, laughed, "I think I'd like to hear why she feels it necessary to follow us… _again_."

Ginny felt her body being flipped around as Blaise then pressed her against the stone wall, both her wrists in his grasp above her head. She winced as the contact of her body knocked against the wall, but glared at the arrogant looking Slytherin. "Fuck you."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't be apposed to you fucking me Weasley, but first how about we get some answers, hm?"

"Um, gross." Pansy added from behind Blaise who just smirked down at Ginny, his tongue slowly wetting his lips and hiding it in his mouth a moment later.

"You going to be a good girl and tell us why you felt the need to stalk us innocent Slytherins?" Blaise asked, his eyes boring into hers.

"Fuck—" Ginny said plainly, seemingly unaffected by his intimidation tactics. "—you snake."

Blaise laughed and shook his head, glancing over at Theo. "Why is it always so surpassing to me that Gryffindor girls are so feisty."

"Because you're used to Slytherin girls who value elegant decorum over barbarous outbursts of rage." Pansy drawled with a sigh.

"Don't be petty Parkinson. It'll cause wrinkles." Ginny spat back.

"Mmm, feisty." Blaise smirked down at the red head who just rolled her eyes.

"Put your cock up Zabini. We've got places to be." Daphne said sounding bored. Ginny met the smaller dirty blonde girls green eyes, noticing that she looked unsettled with the way Blaise had her pinned to the wall.

"I will as soon as Weaslette here puts her mouth to good use and tells me what I want to hear."

"I'd rather choke on my own vomit and die, thank you very much." Ginny said passively, forgoing the need to struggle any longer.

"Well in that case, if you're so frivolous with your life then you won't mind if Theo here takes a peek inside your mind before we decide what to do with it, hm?"

The next moment came too quickly and Ginny had absolutely no time to react. She felt a pressure from every angle attempting to penetrate her temple and then her sight was blurring, though she could still feel Blaise's hands on her wrists pressing her body closer to the wall. She tried to scream, but only heard a buzzing sound similar to the radio when it's searching for a dial— a dial on the radio clicking through channels or memories… she saw flashes of her memory over the last several months and panicked once she realized what Theo was doing.

Flashes of her following the four Slytherins replays for her and Theo who is rummaging through her mind. He sees her following Daphne and Pansy out of castle watching them disappear into the forest holding hands, but never following them in. He sees her following Zabini to a random portrait near the dungeons, only to come out hours later. He sees her following himself to the same portrait to do the same. He sees her trying to decipher the portraits secrets only to be met with a stone wall. He sees her studying Draco on the rare occasion that she sees him throughout the castle. He sees her making note of each odd occurrence on a piece of parchment, showing it to Neville Longbottom and several others.

She feels Theo extract himself from her mind and she is gasping for air the moment her vision returns. Blaise is no longer holding her up and she doubles over, desperately trying to catch her breath.

"You are much more cunning than you lead others to believe Weaselette. Perhaps Slytherin would have better suited your need to snoop around where you don't belong." Theo says to her and the smile on his face causes her to instinctively step away, only for him to close the gap with a step of his own. His wand is lowered, but she can see his grip tighten around it. She stands her ground, lifting her chin.

"I know that you've been leaving the castle." She said looking from Theo to Blaise and then her gaze flashed to the two girls standing behind him, the fire from the floating lanterns above them casting firelight across their shadowed features. "I also know you two have gotten pretty cozy as of late. I have to say, I'm pleasantly surprised and mildly impressed you two managed to pull your Pureblood idealistic heads out of your arse and explore your sexuality."

Pansy made a noise similar to a growl and Theo lifted his arm, making her collide with it.

"Ah, ah, Parkinson… I'd like to hear what the Weaselette has to say. Why don't you and Daph go and head on, you two haven't got much time. Blaise and I will catch up shortly." Theo said and waited as Pansy grumbled and glared at Ginny as she and Daphne retreated.

Theo turned back to Ginny, waiting until the two witches were well out of hearing range. "You do have more to share I would assume?"

Ginny sneered at him, "I do. I want answers. I heard you two talking about Malfoy the other night…"

She smiled as she saw the expression on his face flicker, revealing a sense of concern, but it faded just as quickly.

"Yes. I talk about my best friend often Weaselette… nothing noteworthy there—"

"I would think whispering about Malfoy while also mentioning checking on Luna Lovegood directly after is the _opposite _ of not being noteworthy— considering she didn't return this year and has been missing since the summer."

Theo rolled his shoulders back, his previous smirk now turned into a grimace.

"And what is it that you _think _ you heard?" He gritted out.

"Malfoy either has her or knows where she is and you two are in on it."

"Tell me Weasley," Blaise said crossing his arms, taking a challenging step towards her. "How do you see this playing out? If Draco does have Lovegood, which I am neither confirming nor denying, how does that concern you?"

"It concerns me more than it does either of you! Luna is my friend. You're going to tell me what the hell Malfoy's done with her and you're going to tell me where all you Slytherins keep seeking off to!"

Theo and Blaise both smiled over at one another.

"And why would we do that and not, say… obliviate you right now?"

Ginny didn't even flinch, lifting her own arms across her chest.

"Because I've already shared my suspicions to at least seven other people. You obliviate me, they'll just remind me. Besides…" Ginny continued, glancing at Blaise her eyes softening slightly, "I heard you two talking about Luna. I know you care what happens to her. I want to help."

"Well," Theo said clapping his hands together once. "This has been wonderful. You have nothing but speculative conjecture and false theories, _and_ I yet to see how your involvement, if said theories were true, would benefit either me or Zabini, so we're done here."

They both turned to leave, Theo dropped her wand a few feet away, and Ginny stared after him not even trying to stop them.

"Fine, but when you need my help, and you _will_… just know I'll be waiting." Ginny said to their retreating backs, speaking louder now. "The war is coming to an end— make sure you're on the right side of it when it does!"

* * *

Draco was certain he was on the verge of exploding with frustration. He could feel the fury rising in his chest as he felt Hermione's warmth fade as she leaned away from him, a pink tint rising on her cheeks— the very cheek he had just been touching and intended to continue touching for as long as she allowed him. He slowly tore his gaze from her as she shoved herself to her feet. He glared at Theo and Blaise who were smirking at him. Draco wanted to punch the smile off of his best friends faces, instead he settled with moving to his feet avoiding the hazel colored eyes that were boring into his face from beside him. He could practically feel her confusion and discomfort radiating off of her.

"I truly hope that someone is dead, because if not then I can assure you— it can wait." Draco said through a clenched teeth. He was attempting to lift his Occlumency shield to control the heat of embarrassment and anger filtering through his entire body, but was unable to do so. It was miserable— having emotions. He hated it and the terribly wonderful witch behind him was causing him to go mad with them.

"Afraid not, mate." Blaise said sheepishly coming to stand next to Theo.

"Not _yet_, he means to say." Theo added lifting a finger for emphasis, glancing from Hermione and back to Draco, his smile only stretching. "But you're right, it _can_ wait. I'd much prefer to hear what you two have been up to…"

Before Draco could take a step forward to strangle Theo, Blaise spoke.

"Parkinson received conformation on the next wave."

Draco stiffened and instinctively glanced to where Hermione was, without meeting her stare. He brought his attention back to Blaise who looked uncertain with how much he wanted to say.

"When?"

Blaise shot a weary glance towards Hermione, and then back to Draco. "May 7th."

The next full moon, Draco immediately registered internally. He nodded at Blaise, confirming that he understood what that meant. Suddenly the room felt smaller.

_Greyback was planning to attack, where and who were still uncertain, but he was using the next wave of recruits first transformation to make it as deadly as possible— first transformations are when a pups blood- lust is most heightened … it'd be impossible to control them all— Was the Dark Lord aware what he was planning? If not then maybe I could just warn the Dark Lord and the problem will take care of itself, but how would I explain how I found out without endangering Pansy— _

"Draco, mate—"

Draco snapped his head up, realizing Blaise had been talking to him while he was lost in his thoughts. Theo was watching him closely, the smirk he wore earlier turned down in a concentrated frown. Draco cleared his throat.

"Hm, what?"

"I was saying that we've got time to figure out the details. My step father hasn't heard anything through his contacts, but he mentioned he will keep an ear out for any early movement." Blaise repeated confusion crowding his expression, glancing over at Theo and back to his friend. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine." Draco nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets feeling Hermione's gaze on him but trying to ignore it long enough to focus on shifting the information into the his labyrinth, claiming its own vine and scurrying into submission of the vast hedged maze. It was strange this time, Draco noted, because the as the information settled into the vine it didn't hold as quickly as it normally did. After a third attempt he felt the vine lock into place and he was rid of the worry and need to do something about the new situation and focused his attention back to them.

"I'll see what information I can get on my end. The Dark Lord hasn't mentioned any reference to such movement, so his approval hasn't been provided then the situation could very well take care of itself. Just make sure Parkinson doesn't do anything too stupid in the mean time." Draco added, the thought reminding him the last time he saw his two friends and instantly felt guilty for rushing off. "How's Daph?"

"Pansy is tending to her now." Blaise said shifting from one foot to the other as a smirk grew on Theo's face.

"Oh, she's _tending _ to Daphne alright—" Theo said and flinched as Blaise elbowed his ribs, "Oof! What the fuck was that for?"

"It's disturbing that you find it arousing is 'what for'." Blaise answered.

"Correction— fascinating... I find it fascinating. I do not find it _arousing_—"

"What's arousing?"

All three boys turned to Hermione who had just spoken for the first time, stepping forward intruding on their odd man-triangle.

Theo lifted a brow at Draco who was now certain that he couldn't be more irritated with his best friends than he was in that moment.

"She's not aware of their… _condition_." Draco explained to them. He had been dreading the moment she would ask him about Pansy and was thankful she hadn't yet. Now, he was certain she would.

"Ah," Theo said nodding, "Allow me."

"Don't." Blaise said lifting his hand to Theo's chest, stopping him from taking a step towards Hermione. "Granger does not need your over dramatic and _extremely _ disturbing narration of their story."

Theo lifted his hand to his chest, feigning offense. "I am appalled. You insult me, Zabini. I've been told on more than one occasion my story telling abilities have been known to persuade even the most devoted non-believer."

"That was one time— and it was _Lovegood _ who claimed she understood your fairy-tale nonsense... she'll believe anything."

"Not true—" Theo combated on her behalf, and then frowned in thought. "—though her evidence to prove facts are often questionable at best I still trust her judgement over yours Zabini. You are the classic example of a cynic my dear friend, and she a lenient explorer of truth; therefore she is a much more reliable source on the account of her multiple,_ though colorful _, perspectives and your lack of having a single perspective that has not been smudged with pessimism."

Before Hermione could ask about Luna she heard Draco let out an aggravated sigh, rolling his eyes and lifting his hand to his face to rub his eyes. "Are you two quiet finished?"

"Apologies Romeo, forgot we were interrupting." Theo grinned, then noticing Draco's deepening glare he sighed, "Fine. I suppose we should you tell her. She is your prisoner, not ours, after all... while your at it you can also tell us why Parkinson activated your wards last night. She might have mentioned noticing your room suddenly had a certain floral aroma and you were a tad bit... _jumpy_."

"Very well." Draco nodded, forcing his own smirk that was far more impressive than Theo's. "I will gladly tell Granger whatever she wants to hear— _a__fter_ you two kindly get the fuck out."

"Sure, sure, of course." Theo said rolling his eyes. "Keep all the excitement for yourself—"

"There was one more thing." Blaise said, and Draco sensed his hesitance to continue.

He glanced at Hermione and could hear the reminder of her words echo through his mind as she arched a curious brow at him: _We should begin where every constructive partnership begins... with trust._

"Whatever it is, you can say it in front of Granger."

Blaise eyed his friend for a moment, "I'm not sure that's such a good idea mate."

"And why is that?" Hermione asked, tilting her head slightly.

Blaise glanced at Theo who was absolutely no help and simply shrugged, shuffling his feet and feigning interest in the carpet.

"Fine." He sighed, "The Weaslette has been keeping tabs on us leaving the castle and eavesdropping on our conversations. She knows about Luna—"

"Luna?" Hermione repeated, eyes narrowing in confusion. "Wait— Weaslette— you mean Ginny? Ginny Weasley— w-what's happened? Is she in trouble?"

Blaise shot Draco a look as if to say I told you so, but Draco waved it off.

"What do you mean she knows about Lovegood?"

"She thinks you either have her or know where she is, said she knows we've been helping you and she demanded we tell her why we keep leaving the castle—"

"Do you?" Hermione turned to Draco then, "She was at Bill's wedding— I saw her and then we all had run, but s-she was safe. She was with her father—" her previous expression of confusion gone replaced with mild disbelief, "Malfoy, Do you have Luna?"

" _I_ don't have anyone Granger." Draco said quickly, not liking the way she was looking at him or the way it made his heart feel a thousand pounds heavier.

"Technically, you do—" Theo mumbled lifting a thumb in Hermione's direction and his head nodding towards her. He immediately dropped his hand and began staring at the carpet once more as Draco's heated glare focused on him. "Right, shutting up now."

"But your father does, doesn't he?" She asked Draco, ignoring Theo's comment. "Is she— is she here, too?"

Draco couldn't keep his eyes on hers. He simply nodded.

"Look, Granger before you go all Gryffindor suicide rescue mission on us, know that we've all been checking in on her. She hasn't gone through any more torture then you have and we've kept anyone from physically harming her. She's well fed—"

"No _more _ torture," she laughed bitterly at Blaise's attempt to explain, "Well, that makes it much better—"

"Granger—"

"Where?" Hermione cut Blaise off again and turned to Draco. "Where are you keeping her?"

Draco flinched at her words as she was still referring to him as the one keeping her locked up.

"In the dungeons. She's been there since before you, Potter, and Weasley arrived." He answered. The lack of control over his Occlumency shield was weighing on him and the pressure of guilt felt like it was consuming him.

Theo noticed the pained expression on his best friends face, an expression of vulnerability Theo had only ever witnessed on Draco's face in fleeting moments. He stepped forward to speak for him.

"If we could get her out of there without anyone knowing it was us we would. The wards down there are practically impenatrable. The one time we tried, Draco had to cover for us and—" Theo swallowed, flinching slightly at the memory, "It just didn't fucking work alright?"

"What do you all need with her anyway?"

"_We_ aren't the ones keeping locked her up." Draco said before Theo or Blaise could speak.

His need to correct her from including him with his father and the other Death-Eaters suddenly made his head spin, his mouth felt extremely dry as he took in a ragged breath. He knew he was over-reacting, after all he had been the one to correct her multiple times when she tried to describe him as anything else, but the anger bubbling inside him was unlike anything he felt before. He felt out of control. It was like all of the emotions he suppressed before Hermione stumbled into his custody were raging inside his labyrinth, clawing their way out of his brain—

"Malfoy..." She said, her voice suddenly much quieter. "I didn't mean—"

"Doesn't matter." He said opening his eyes. He hadn't realized he had closed them. Theo and Blaise were watching him with a weary expression. Draco lifted his hand to his hair, running his fingers through it hoping to ease some of the tension in his head. The next string of words flowed out of his mouth before he could articulate what is he even wanted to say. They came out so rapidly, he wasn't even certain they made any sense. _Something was definitely wrong with him_. "Lovegood's safety is and has always been our top priority. The moment we find a way to free her we will. As for Weaslette, let her keep speculating. There's nothing she can do from Hogwarts as long as Snape's in charge. Who knows, with what's coming we may need all the help we can get—"

"You're serious?" Theo asked, considering his friend for a moment. "Wait, what aren't you telling us?"

Draco suddenly felt heavy as the vines shifted about in his mind, no longer tucked away where he planted them but scattered about and demanding his attention. Something was definitely happening to him. He felt unstable and his control over his thoughts and ability to speak were floating away from his grasp. The need to shut his eyes overcame him again and he felt his weight stagger backwards a step, there was a lightness in his head then as each vine, each memory lashed from within his mind, each one attempting to claim his attention, no longer wanting to be repressed:

_The image of his mother's cool blue eyes lingering on his, her knowing glances enveloped with secrets beyond what should be seen—_

_The vibrating sound of his father's words of warning... I hope you know what you are doing son—_

_The alluring glimpse of light magic taunting him near Dumbledore's grave, pulling him to the headmasters office, the black box, the light magic taking him somewhere, wanting him to see something—_

_Snape's cryptic voice admonishing him... You've let something weaken you; warning him... Keep her hidden—_

_Voldemort's bony fingers curling over his shoulder, praising him on a successful mission... Well done Draaaco—_

Another wave of vines creeped forward and Draco was certain he was no longer standing, he felt something warm on his face but the pain inside his head was throbbing with an urgency so intense he couldn't bare to open his eyes. He heard his name being called, but the vines within his mind overpowered his need to listen. They lurched forward, quicker now, the memories and thoughts beginning to jumble:

_Lovegood dancing with Theo, the necklace glistening around her delicate neck—_

_Theo and Blaise promising him... We're in this __together__—_

_Pansy sobbing into his chest, pleading for protection he failed to give her—_

_Daphne's shivering body on the forest floor, reminding him of how he had failed them both— _

_The fearful image of a looming battle on the horizon, Greyback building an army—_

_Locating Potter— Kidnapping a Goblin — Ginny Weasley stalking him through the corridors as he carried vials beneath his cloak—_

Suddenly those vines shifted, allowing the deeper, craftily hidden vines to creep forward slowly. The pain in Draco's mind seemed to dull and all he could focus on was the tall hedges as the smooth, silky green vines encompassed him; there was a warmth to them that he never experienced before, inviting him forward:

Hermione was standing within the maze. The thought occurred to him in the haziness of his mind that no one had ever stood within the maze before. No one had ever been able to and he certainly never allowed anyone in, but there she was; still wearing his oversized jumper and her curls wild, feet bare. He made to follow her, the closer he got the further into the maze she went, deeper into the intricate path... all the while Draco could hear the echo of her voice as he followed her through the winding turns:

_I obliviated my parents... They wouldn't remember the Forest if they returned... or me—_

He saw her blur of brown curls luring him forward and then they disappeared behind another turn. The green hedges seemed to grow taller, towering over him, becoming darker the further he travelled; her voice continued to echo around him:

_Seven, if you include You - Know - Who as the first... We've already destroyed three of them... That's what I think Bellatrix is hiding inside her vault. That's what she thought we stole—_

One vine curled around his wrist, making him pause. He tried to pull free of it, desperate to continue after her. He had to get her out. He couldn't let her see what he had seen. He had to hide it from her...

The vine gripped his wrist tighter and then he saw red; the image of Hermione on the floor of his drawing room floor emerged before him, he saw the curse working its way into her blood stream taking hold and confirming that she was as good as dead. The need to move urged him forward, his arm ripped out of the vine's grasp, snapping it, the sight of blood pouring from the root causing him to stagger back quickly... the sky above seemed to grow darker the longer he stood there so he shoved himself forward, seeking the the warm trail she left in her wake_—_

He faltered slightly, stumbling over himself once he caught sight of her. There was a calmness in the center of the maze that flooded over him the instant he stepped inside. Hermione was standing in the center, the sky was now bright. There were vines arranged intricately in a halo ring above her, flowers of all radiant colors blooming within them, cascading around her, sheltering her. Draco knew he had to be hallucinating because the sight was too incredibly breathtaking. He felt numb with ease, as if he had taken several doses of a calming draught. He took a slow step forward, joining her within the sheltered halo of vines. Her smile focused on him as she reached out her hand to him. Though her words were muffled and didn't seem real coming from this hallucinated version of her, he was entranced all the same:

_What does that mean for us?_ _I - I mean me. Once you have what you need to find Harry, what happens then?_

Where her hands were lifting to gently cradle his face in her palms he felt nothing, reminding him that she wasn't real. Even the color of her eyes were not quiet right, not as rich in their honey color, but a darker shade... he made it a point in the recesses of his mind to memorize them better if he ever escaped this _mirage, hullucination_— _whatever it was__— _the version of Hermione he conjured smiled at him and brought her body closer, there was no warmth, but he savored it all the same:

_You said earlier you wanted me to show you what to do next... I want to—_

Draco watched as her eyes fluttered shut, lips parting, giving him permission to silence his burdens inside his mind if only for a moment—

As he moved to do the same, she was disappeared from before him and the bright light and colorful halo of shifting vines and flowers started to turn brown, as if someone had put a spell on them causing them too rapidly bring them to their death. The sky above him darkened and the tall edges began closing in. Everywhere he looked the path to escape was gone, lightening struck the hovering vines and they caught fire; before he felt the weight of the burning vines descend upon him something yanked his body backwards... then all was black.


	10. Guilt & Greatness

**A/N: **Ahhhh— your responses to the last chapter made me so anxiously happy and feel very guilty… guilty enough to push out an early update! I truly didn't realize that I ended it with such a gut wrenching cliff hanger. I apologize and promise to (maybe) never do it again (on purpose)… ok, whew, there's a bit of jumping around in this chapter to set up some important scenes to come...it feels heavy, but that just may be because I've been adding to it almost all day, changing my mind on what to keep and what to toss so I don't confuse anyone too much. So if that happens (sorry that what happens when i force myself to update before i feel its ready) let me know and I'll try my best to sort it best I can for you - oh and we do get a glimpse of Pansy/Daphne story explanation but if it's still hazy just stick with me and trust the process haha :) I'm going to be adding chapter playlists at the beginning of each chapter, as well as adding chapter playlists to previous chapters, including music that either inspired specific parts or just what I listened to while writing it.

**Chapter Playlist:**

_War of Hearts (Acoustic Version) : Ruelle_

_Hang on a little longer : UNSECRET, Ruelle_

_Dream State : Son Lux_

_Mean it : Gracie Abrams_

_Painting Greys : Eimmit Fenn_

_Play God : Sam Fender_

* * *

They waited for what felt like ages. Hermione nervously picked at her fingernails as she paced near the center of the room. The other two wizards were sitting, Theo bouncing his leg on the edge of the bed near Draco's unconscious form and Blaise in a chair next to him, his wand gripped tightly in his lap. She glanced over at the small elf who was mumbling nervously to herself. Hermione thought the small creature might rip her ear off from tugging on it so much.

Mink arrived almost the moment Draco lost consciousness and had been unable to wake him due to her swearing to Draco sometime before that she wouldn't.

"Master has made Mink promise not to be reviving hims if his eyes be closed a-and there being no blood. Master has made Mink swear it." The small creature was glancing wide-eyed with tears brimming them, at Hermione, wriggling her hands in front of her, then moved to the headboard near Draco's sleeping head, and began banging her own against the wood. "Mink is not knowing what to do to help Master. Mink is not knowing. Mink is a terrible elf. Terrible. Terrible."

"Mink! No, stop— Mink! Hey— Malfoy will be alright. I'll make sure of it. Ok? Mink! Stop harming yourself this instant!"

After several minutes of chasing the small elf around the room, as Mink seemed in desperate need to punish herself— grabbing the stool near piano and hitting it against her head— only to notice the piano the moment Hermione reached for her and reappeared inside the piano, the keys banging loudly with her repeated effort to close her head in the pianos lid— Hermione was finally able to settle the small creature in her lap the moment she reappeared near Draco's head once more to continue her banging on headboard. The elf was shaking with worry as Hermione held her, mumbling for 'Master to wake'. Eventually the elf seemed numb with anxiousness and simply crawled out of Hermione's arms to sit criss-cross near Draco's side, her small hands gripping the cuff of Draco's sleeve, staring at him, blinking, willing him to wake.

Hermione caught the confused, yet slightly amused looks of both Blaise and Theo and she moved from her place on the bed to give the elf some space.

Hermione tried to control her breathing, determined that it was best to just focus on thinking logically. There was a reason he was unconscious and she was fairly certain she knew why. She had shared her theories with his two best friends and they seemed to have their own theories as well, claiming they had seen signs of it over the past few weeks but wasn't sure what to make of it. She tried not to get angry at them for not mentioning it sooner, because it wasn't their responsibility to tell her anything. She knew that. She also knew she had no right to know anything about Draco, but she did and because of it she was mortified thinking his mind was somehow deteriorating from the inside out.

Blaise's theory was similar to hers, as he thought the amount of heightened stress and exhaustion triggered the reaction of falling unconscious— he believed it was just another way his magic tried to protect his mind from overstimulation… the only difference was the Blaise thought it a one off occurrence, that once Draco rested he'd be good as new… Hermione wasn't so certain. She feared the it was only the beginning side effects and she worried it would only grow worse the longer he relied on the magic to keep his secrets hidden.

Theo's theory was only slightly more dramatic— claiming "Draco's probably going to wake up with no recollection of who he is or who we are for that matter— he's been losing his mind ever since the Dark Lord became Daddy Landlord of the Manor. I mean, case and point, his last three choices have led to him saving Potter's best friend, lying to the Dark Lord about it, and going rouge during a mission for a Weasley— a bloody WEASLEY! His decision making skills have been questionable to say the least!"

Hermione was only slightly offended… he did shrug after his rant offering her a, "no offense".

She inhaled deeply and tried to focus on her theories instead. Hermione knew the best way combat stressful situations that made her feel useless was with logic— reviewing facts, confirming logical details, things she was certain of... worrying about what could or could not be happening did no one any good.

Once she had the facts she could offer solutions.

She began mentally shifting through everything she read about Occlumency, hoping to remember specific texts that mentioned the side effects of overuse. Pacing once more, her mind whirling, she relented to revisit the basics of the practice itself.

Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine herself in the tucked away corner of the library back at Hogwarts. Her favorite corner near the window that looked out over the grounds, keeping the Quidditch pitch in sight… so in her moments of pause between studying and shifting through her notes she could glance out the window and find her best friend soaring through the sky, or more commonly for Harry, hovering patiently, seeking out the snitch.

Her heart warmed at the memory of his gaze roaming across pitch below him; though he was so far away and could certainly not know that Hermione was tucked into the random window near the far edge of the castle, she always smiled when his eyes would filter her way, imagining that he was seeking her out for comfort as often as she did with him, as one would seek comfort in their brother or sister— a habit that they both developed over the years.

Turning her attention back to her tucked away corner she inhaled deeply, a tremor of a memory of the smell of parchment and the feel of old, withering bindings as she traced her fingers along the shelves wafted through her mind, until settling on the book she selected from her categorized vault of information:

_Occlumency is the magical defense of the mind against external penetration. The basic intention is to effectively shut down ones mind to prevent access to their thoughts_…

But what Draco was doing went far deeper than simply defending against an one - off mental penetration attempt of intruding the mind. He seemed to have prepared some sort of continuous, fortified mental defense system, using an extremely complicated arrangement of magic.

It was apparent to Hermione that he seemed capable of accessing his defense at will, and that type of reliance would demand an exceeding amount of one's magical core— which would probably, no, most definitely result in over - exertion, exhaustion, and the possibility she feared the most… permanent damage to one's mind and magical core...

Hermione sighed, nervously biting her lip as she focused her worried gaze on the pale, blond wizard lying across the room. _Draco Malfoy gave a whole new meaning to compartmentalizing. _

She understood the need for such extreme measures now that she understood what all he had to deal with. There was a guilty weight settled in her bones knowing she was one of the root causes for his need to rely on occluding so much.

She mentally kicked herself for her words earlier, though she didn't mean to direct the accusation at Draco, she knew her concern for Luna's safety came out harsher than she meant for them to. Her need to worry about Luna or Ginny weighed heavily on her, but the worry she had for Draco felt deeper somehow, filtering through her bones making her ache for him with every passing moment his eyes remained closed…

"MASTER IS AWAKE!"

Hermione snapped into action, quickly returning to her spot on the bed near Mink, as Theo and Blaise were inconveniently occupying the space near the edge of the bed. She realized, though it hardly seemed to matter at the moment, that she was sitting in the same bed as Draco Malfoy, hovering over Mink's shoulder to confirm what the elf exclaimed moments ago. The elf, who as of two seconds ago completely still with worry, was now bouncing up and down, almost knocking into Hermione's chin with each jump of excitement.

* * *

The moment Draco's eyes fluttered open the elf dropped to a kneeling position, wailing, as she dropped her teary eyes to Draco's chest.

"M-Master. Mink i-is s-so sorry—"

"Mink?" Draco croaked out, shifting slowly to his elbows as his sight slowly adjusted and the elf's small voice became recognizable.

"Yes. Mink is here for Master. Please tell Mink it is alright for Mink to help Master."

Theo and Blaise were hovering near his bedside watching him nervously.

"The bloody hell are you two gawking at?" Draco demanded, moving to sit completely in an up-right position, but paused the moment his eyes filtered to the left where Hermione was hiding a smile of relief with her lip tucked behind her teeth. "Why are you three looking at me with— that look? It's very unsettling—"

"You kind of pulled a Longbottom and fainted on us—" Theo said nudging Draco's leg with his elbow then added reassuringly, "—much more gracefully, of course."

Hermione leaned forward then, and Draco noticed Mink nervously shuffle closer to him to give the witch room to get closer.

"You frightened us all to death! Why didn't you tell us you were feeling ill?"

The shrillness to her voice suddenly reminded of the way she spoke to Potter and Weasley the day they all wound up in the hospital wing after a Quidditch match. Her overbearing need to reprimand them for being careless and worrying her as Draco sat opposite of them… alone, trying desperately to ignore her inability to hide how much she obviously cared for the two sodding idiots; but now she was directing the same amount of care at him… he frowned, completely unsure what to do with it.

"You must stop over-exerting yourself. You need rest a-and you have to manage how often you're Occluding as it's obviously straining you far worse than anyone should ever be expected to handle—"

He opened his mouth to tell her just why he didn't have much of a choice in the matter, but she beat him to it.

"And don't you dare try and explain how _necessary_ it is—" she rolled her eyes as she said _necessary_, as if she was tired of the word. "—because if you can't protect yourself first then what was necessary to keep hidden won't really matter, will it?"

He blinked several times attempting to sort out the fierce look in her eyes and the liquid brimming them._ This witch was very confusing, infuriatingly so—_

"Well?" She huffed, crossing her arms. "Don't you have anything to say?"

Draco swallowed, "Um…" He glanced over at Blaise and Theo who were both watching him with amused smirks on their faces, but suppling no further in-put making Draco want to roll his eyes at their lack of back-up. He turned back towards Hermione whose brows were lifted high, her breathing returning to a normal pace, her mouth set in a firm line. He almost wanted to laugh. Almost. But he was certain it would only infuriate her further and launch her into another lecture.

"You're right." He settled on. "I'm sorry."

She continued glaring at him and then glanced to see Theo and Blaise flicking their gaze between the two of them and her shoulders dropped immediately and she dropped her hands to her lap.

"Well, good." She said primly. "Mink needs to make sure there's no internal damage so sit still." Hermione nodded to his elf who was nervously gazing up at the witch in bewilderment, probably for speaking to her Master in such a tone. "Mink."

Mink glanced from Hermione to Draco and he suppressed the urge to laugh at the elf's frightened face. He simply nodded and waited for Mink to finish, glancing up once to meet Hermione's stare, which she immediately dropped and began nervously fidgeting with her fingers. A second later she turned her gaze to Theo and Blaise, who were still smirking at her reaction.

"What?" She demanded.

Draco could already hear the inappropriate comment leaving his mouth before he said it. He heard Blaise sigh, mumbling something along the lines of 'here we go…' and knew he was flinching for the same reason.

Theo shook his head, glancing at Draco before returning his gaze on Hermione, "On a scale of one to ten, how bossy would you say you are? And I don't just mean in context of your usual swotiness… but _specifically_ in sexual endeavors?"

Draco paled the moment he saw the look on Hermione's face fall, her jaw hanging open, eyes blinking as she processed the meaning behind his words.

"I only ask because I've heard rumors—"

Before Theo could finish that sentence Hermione firmly silenced him with a smack across his face. Blaise and Draco both flinched as the loud sound seemed to ring around them.

"Deserved that I suppose." Theo mumbled lifting his hand to rub his cheek. He tried smiling over at Hermione, mumbling "Forget I asked…"

"Already forgotten." She said heatedly, avoiding the eyes of any of the wizards in the room.

Draco wasn't sure why he said what he said next, to release the tension maybe? To rid Hermione of the blush in her cheeks and her overall embarrassment?

"Blaise, I'd venture to guess you would need to make it a point to be less of a git than Theo or myself, as you are now the last one in this room to have not been slapped by Hermione Granger…" Draco felt Hermione's eyes on him and he met her stare with a small smirk, "…deservedly so, of course."

He saw her lip tuck behind her teeth once more, hiding a smirk of her own.

"That should take little to no effort on my part, seeing as I've been less of a git than you two prats my entire life." Blaise countered smugly.

"Mink is done now. Master is not in any pain, is he?"

Draco shook his head, "No, Mink. You did well."

The laugh that escaped the small creature sounded slightly strained with sobs and Draco rolled his eyes, "Yes, Mink… what is it then?"

"Mink is wondering if Master could not be asking Mink wait so long to heal Master next time?"

"Why did you tell her not to wake you anyway?" Theo asked.

He heard Hermione gasp piecing together things quicker than he could answer, "This has happened before hasn't it? Malfoy—"

"Yes." He said not interested in hearing another lecture, no matter what it did to the lower half of his abdomen thinking of her worrying about him. "Once or twice. When it happens its best to let it be. Stopping it will only make it worse."

"Well with that very vague and cryptic reasoning I feel much better," Theo said, glancing over at Hermione, "How bout you?"

Ignoring him, Hermione reached her hand out and placed it on Draco's. He instantly dropped his eyes to where their fingers were gripping one another's to confirm that he wasn't hallucinating again.

"Malfoy. This is serious if you can't control it—"

"I can control it. I was just—" he sighed, "I'm just exhausted. I just need to sleep. It's not that serious."

She nodded and leaned back again, but her fingers remained in his. He wasn't sure which one of them gripped tighter, but he liked the way it made him feel grounded.

"Mink you're alright to go and my demand remains. Do the same as you've done if this is to occur again."

The elf looked slightly disappointed, but nodded just the same.

"And Mink…" he added and the elf glanced up at him expectantly. "You did exceptionally well. I wouldn't being feeling well if you hadn't been here to help."

The elf grinned so wide Draco was certain he could see everyone of her teeth before she disappeared with a 'pop'. He looked over to see all three set of eyes watching him with amused expressions.

Draco frowned, "What? Mink's desperate for affirmation… least I could do, I would think. She's saved my life several times over now."

He noticed Hermione grinning into her lap as Blaise made an off handed comment about him going soft.

" So… I hate to be the one to bring up the topic that shocked you into a brief state of unconsciousness, but uh—" Theo started casually, "—you were saying something along the lines of joining forces with the she-weasel, and I for one, am just bursting with intrigue as to why you would think that would ever be a good idea?"

_Fuck_. Draco had momentarily forgotten his reason for fainting, or anything besides his two best mates interrupting him and Granger_— oh, fuck— Granger— _

His eyes immediately found hers, flicking between them and her mouth and she blushed almost as if she knew exactly what he was thinking about. He cleared his throat, hoping to shake himself from lingering on that thought for too long.

"Remember when I told you I had news on Potter?"

Blaise leaned forward then, both he and Theo nodding.

"Well, Granger and I might have figured out a way to find him…" He glanced at Hermione who looked like she was holding her breath, watching him intently. He felt the warmth of her hand in his, giving him the courage to say what he needed to next. His face became serious as he looked at his two best friends.

Though he felt terribly worn down, he knew with his Occlumency faltering that if he was going to keep his word and help Hermione find Potter then he was going to need his friends to be on board too.

"We all want this war to end—" he watched Theo's eyes drop to his lap and Blaise nod in agreement. "We've always told each other that if there was ever a way out that we'd take it. I think this is finally it—" Draco swallowed as he glanced over at Hermione, who offered him a small encouraging smile. "—our way out."

"We meant we'd run—" Theo said slowly lifting his gaze, a hint of sadness laced with disbelief in his tone, his eyes seemed to be searching Draco's. "—not scurry off to find Potter! The only reason we'd ever have a way out is when both your parents died and we had no one left to protect! We'd bring Blaise— We'd bring Pansy and Daph and we'd go to that fucking abandoned Manor you forced me to turn into a safe house—" Theo stood then shaking his head and throwing his hands out in front of him, "—live out our days, not bothering with the _fucking_ _war_— or being the ones to decide who lives and who dies—" he dropped his hands, shaking his head. "We said we would leave it all behind Draco… You said that. You said that."

The concept of betrayal was not something Draco thought about often, but as he looked into Theo's heavy gaze he imagined the concept felt a lot like the way Theo made him feel right then.

Draco hardly registered that Hermione had tightened her grip on his fingers, but the moment he did it reminded him why what Theo was saying would never work.

Theo, who had no one but Draco to truly call family, would only hate himself if they did what they had cowardly determined the best option all those months ago. Draco knew Theo better than anyone. He knew he never had it in him to simply '_not bother with the fucking war_' and move on—

Where Draco could easily compartmentalize the amount of effort he put into caring, only allowing calculated spurts of emotions, Theo was the exact opposite. He felt everything. He cared too much and covered it with a lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms and a dark sense of humor.

Where Draco was all cold, all the time, off-putting to the point of appearing as disinterested arrogance, Theo was denied the ability to choose between the warmth or the cold; instead feeling them both and all at once... gifting him the appearance of shards of broken glass and bloody knuckles—

He worked so hard for people to be afraid of hurting him because he was in a constant state of pain with or without anyone else's help.

He felt entirely too much and running away wouldn't stop that. Running away would destroy him, slowly, making him completely mad with guilt and far too much blood on his hands.

Blaise, for all his attempts to portray a composed demeanor, was far more messed up than either of them… he was much like Granger or Potter in the sense that he's known happiness and the type of love it takes for a parent to choose their child over themselves. He has known it quiet intimately and lost it all the same; neither Draco or Theo could ever imagine what it felt like for him to loose his mother, who purposely fled with her son to keep him safe, to only die at the hands of those she sought to flee… leaving Blaise an orphan, with an estranged step-father who was far from reliable, and in turn he chose to avenge his mother.

So Draco knew, that for Blaise as well as Theo, that running away was never really an option…

The witch who supplied a gentle squeeze of her fingers to his made him see that it wasn't one for him either.

_You know, not making a choice is just as pitiful as making the wrong one. _

"You said you didn't want us to be the ones to decide who lives or who dies." Draco said evenly, holding Theo's gaze. "If we run— we'll still be deciding that… We'll just be choosing to not witness it… people will still die if we fight or if we run, but if we fight…"

Theo met his gaze then. Draco felt his chest tighten upon seeing how closely Theo hung on his every word, desperate for him to tell him what to do like a lost child in search of shelter, in search of meaning to why he ever got lost in the first place—

"If we fight… we can make sure the ones who die are the ones who deserve to."

One of the vines inside his mind lashed forward suddenly, no matter how hard he tried to shove it back into place it remained long enough to reveal the memory of his his mother writhing in pain before him and the feeling of utter helplessness consumed him, the Dark Lord pointing his wand at her, grinning at Draco while he mocked his father's failure, demanding Draco step up and take his place—

Draco shoved the vine back into place, trying to hide the wavering effects of his Occlumency shields being overused from the three set of eyes watching him closely.

"I want the war to end, but I want the Dark Lord to die more and we need— _fuck_, I can't believe I'm saying this—" he shook his head in disbelief, forcing the words out. "—We need Potter to make that happen."

"Fuck—" Blaise said as Theo followed up with , "Bloody fuck, you're serious—"

"Uhm— I, um, agree…" Hermione added sheepishly, "… with the, er— the fuck bit I mean, and the rest of it I suppose, um, as well."

Draco felt a lightness in his chest as she smiled at him and glanced over to see Theo and Blaise with matching looks of 'why the fuck not'.

Now that he felt he had them on board he felt it was time for action… from them, not him… as in— he wanted them to leave.

Hermione had begun slowly tracing her thumb over the skin of his wrist and he was exceedingly aware of it being the forth time she had tucked her lip under her tooth while looking at him in the past ten minutes.

Yes, it was time for Theo and Blaise to leave, but first he needed a favor.

_Surprise, surprise_— he imagined Theo saying… and as if on cue—

"You need us to do something that will most likely involve us avoiding our impending doom by the skin of our perfectly fuckable arse's, don't you?" Theo asked with a narrow gaze, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Speak for yourself mate. My arse is distinctly agreeable with remaining 'unfucked' thank you." Blaise said quickly at the same moment Hermione observed aloud, "Impending doom? That seems mildly overdramatic, Nott—"

"Ok, first of all," Theo countered, looking at Hermione, "Forgive me if my need to adhere to the truth bothers you, and I assure you 'impending doom' will be nothing short of accurate if I know my best friend as well as I think I do, not to mention Harry Potter's involvement— I'm certain I have no need to explain myself there… And secondly—" Theo tilted his head in Blaise's direction, "experimenting will do wonders for your vanity, Zabini, no one's above a little trial and error to figure out which kinks works for them."

Blaise simply blinked at him in utter bemusement, as he often did as Hermione snickered into the sleeve of her jumper. Theo looked smug noting her reaction, beaming slightly which made Draco roll his eyes, but oddly enough, he was sort of enjoying himself for the first time in a very long time. He felt relaxed… but then Hermione pulled her hand away from his to curl a piece of her hair behind her ear and Draco grimaced at the loss of contact.

"Fine. Yes. I need you two to retrieve something for me."

"OH BRILLIANT—" Theo chirped sarcastically, "—A QUEST!"

Draco ignored him, knowing he would surely have more to say after he's heard what it was Draco intended to ask them to do. "I need you two to kidnap a Goblin."

"As one does…" Theo bowed his head towards Draco, seemingly unbothered.

"Kidnap—" Blaise repeated slowly. "—a Goblin?"

"Yes." Draco confirmed.

"Ah, I see…"

The three boys then proceeded to share several glances between one another—

Draco nodding in the door's direction with a pointed look, then at each of them—

Theo squinting until he realized what he was implying and he then frowned—

Blaise smirked slightly as he noticed Hermione watching the strange wordless interaction between them, and then watched as Draco's face went blank the moment her eyes settled back on him, missing the way he was nodding at her only seconds ago—

They did this for several moments before Hermione apparently had enough of the lingering silence.

"Well, aren't you going to tell them why?"

"No need." Theo said reaching for his cloak and pulling it over his shoulders. "We're merely henchmen, Granger. We do as were told."

She watched as Blaise and Theo rose to their feet suddenly with a confused curiosity laced on her features.

"So I assume I'll need to finalize my preparations for the safe house then?" Theo asked Draco.

"You haven't finished? You started months was months ago and I was there, it seemed finished enough…"

"Excellence is not to be rushed Draco…"

Draco rolled his eyes and nodded, "Yes, Theo. If the next few days find themselves playing out how I imagine they will, you'll need to have it ready by the end of the week. You can keep the Goblin there, too."

"Do I even want to know how exactly you two seem to already have a plan for procuring a Goblin?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Definitely not—" Blaise answered as Theo added, "My German cousin collects them periodically for the winter seasons. Runs a gambling romp, Goblins keep the numbers straight…"

Hermione starred at Theo in horror, "That can't be legal!"

Theo rolled his eyes. "Name something worth doing that is Granger—"

"Leaving." Draco called over to them with a very unnatural smile, "You two leaving is perfectly legal and very much preferred at the moment…"

"Yes. Yes. We understand our abrupt arrival was rather poorly timed, and as much as I'd love to stick around for the show, I'd hate to cause further tension to develop as a result of restraining anyone's raging hormones another second—" Theo said rather quickly with a large grin, diving out of the way of Blaise's fist which was aiming for his stomach to make him stop talking, and continued, "— not to mention it's terribly unhealthy to suppress desires that have probably been boiling beneath the surface— since, oh I don't know— forth year? Yule Ball, perhaps Draco? Also—We all know how painful blue-balls can be when not dealt with prop—"

Theo frowned as he noticed he had been silenced and looked up to see Draco with his wand gripped in his hand, moving from where he lay on the bed to his feet. Theo backed up slowly and reached for his wand.

"Wait—" Hermione moved from the bed and stood between them. She ignored the silent wizard to her left who was trying to reverse the silencing spell cast on him to no avail, and spoke directly to Blaise. Draco glared at Theo who was smiling mischievously at him. "Before you go… about Ginny and Luna— I know you can't tell them I'm here, and you don't trust Ginny with—"

"Don't worry Granger. When the time comes we'll ensure that the she-weasel and Lovegood are safe. You have my word."

Hermione nodded at him with a smile. "Thank you."

She looked like she wanted to say more, but the moment she turned to Draco she seemed to forget whatever she was about to say. She tilted her head, examining him, blinking rapidly with concern etched on her features.

"What should we tell Pans—?" Blaise started turning to Draco, but immediately froze as he realized Draco wasn't paying him attention at all, but staring directly at the Dark Mark vibrating to life on his forearm. "Draco…"

The rush of an icy chill shot through Draco's veins and he felt his heart begin to race.

Draco knew the moment his forearm began to hum that everything he had just promised his best friends was most likely going to be the thing that got them killed if he went to the Dark Lord in the state that he was in now. He glanced up, feeling drained as he attempted to force his magic to guard his mind once more.

"Malfoy. You can't—" Hermione choked, stepping towards him. "You can't go like this— If you do—"

"If I don't it will be much worse." He finished for her, his voice steady despite the lack of confidence he felt at that moment.

Theo moved toward him then.

"Let me go in your place." He said, his face suddenly filled with all the emotion Draco was expertly hiding. "Draco, mate, let me go— I-I'll take Polyjuice… I can—"

"No. That's not an option." Draco said firmly, shaking his head. The humming began to pulse in waves almost as if it was counting down the moments it took for Voldemort's followers to obey his summoning. Draco shut his eyes and ran his hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to calm his rising panic. He opened his eyes once he determined the only true way to deal with this was by ensuring Voldemort couldn't trace his mistakes back to any of them.

He nodded, "Change of plans." He glanced over at Hermione who was watching him with so much fear in her eyes… he was certain she hadn't even been as afraid while being tortured by Bellatrix on his drawing room floor. He tore his eyes away speaking to his best friends.

"Take Granger to the safe house. If something happens you three will be safe there. Then you two can get the Goblin and help her find Potter—"

"Draco." Theo cut in.

"Theo— I know what I'm doing. I've already wasted enough time. Just go!" He demanded.

Theo hesitated.

"I can keep him out. I can still keep him out." Draco said, to himself more than anyone else. He turned to Blaise knowing out of the three he understood what needed to be done better than anyone. "Please, go…"

Blaise nodded, gripping his shoulder firmly. "We'll see you at the safe house tonight. Yeah?"

Draco nodded once and watched as Theo reluctantly pulled him in for a firm hug.

"Don't you dare fucking die brother—" He mumbled into Draco's shoulder, gripping his shirt tighter the longer the seconds passed on.

Draco felt his forearm burn deeper and winced glaring down at it. "I have to go."

The moment he looked up he saw a blur of brown curls hurdling towards him and then he felt Hermione's small arms wrapping around his neck.

It was strange, this moment, he thought as his eyes firmly shut and her body pressed itself against his; strange in the fact that it seemed impossible to really settle in his mind long enough to believe it was even real. He was certain he should be feeling overcome with fear, as he often was even with the simplest of tasks, much less being summoned by Voldemort, but he didn't feel scared, not really, not as he wrapped his arms around Hermione and felt her vibrating with enough fear for the both of them.

It wasn't that he was completely numb, the opposite actually. He could feel so much in that split instant it took for her to wrap her arms around him. He savored the warmth of her and as she pulled her head back for him to stare down into her eyes… and something else overcame him. Something more powerful than fear, something more reliable than courage, and something definitely foreign to Draco; he felt a sense of purpose… and he knew his purpose was looking up at him, lips quivering and brown eyes filled with uncertainty… He smirked slightly as the peace of knowing what what he was about to face hardly mattered if it meant keeping her safe. He wasn't sure when it occurred to him, but he sensed it in that moment.

He lifted his hands to place them on either side of her face, and he remembered his promise he made to himself while he was unconscious— to memorize the color of her eyes so when she was no longer his to keep safe he could imagine them on his darkest nights, and so he did. He searched every inch of her eyes, committing every detail to memory, finding that within the dark pools honey there were flecks of amber, and near the center even deeper shades of cinnamon…

"I meant what I said—" He said tilting his head towards hers, knowing Theo and Blaise were only a short few feet away and could hear every word. "—that the moment I saved you I decided to save myself too. I'll be damned if it took me this long to figure out that I actually wanted to just throw it away in less than an hour."

She looked like she wanted to smile, but she only nodded inhaling a shaky breath. She looked like she wanted to say something, but her eyes only drifted down to his mouth, lingering there until he watched her lashes flutter shut…

He felt he knew what she was saying without actually saying anything at all.

The pain in his arm forced his attention away from her eyes slowly closing as he leaned towards her, and suddenly the pain was all he could feel. He staggered backwards, clutching his arm.

"You need to go." He gritted out, looking at Blaise and Theo purposefully, "NOW!"

He didn't give himself the privilege of a second glance, instead he apparated with the warmth of her eyes engrained in his mind, and instantly shoved the thought deeper into his hedged maze, hoping desperately that out of all the vines he needed to protect, that hers would be buried the deepest…

* * *

Snape was in the meeting room, standing beside the head of the table where Voldemort sat stiffly whispering with the greasy-haired wizard. The sight of Snape did not put Draco at ease in the slightest, as he was the only other wizard in attendance beside himself, letting Draco know that it was Voldemort's intentions to meet with him alone.

Determined to not give away his weariness he strode deeper into the large room with the same confident air he carried whenever he was summoned by the Dark Lord. Upon hearing Draco's light footsteps Snape's head turned quickly to follow his every movement, while Voldemort simply smiled, his read eyes boring into Draco's.

The moment he stopped, he forced his emotions to subside and emptied his mind with every effort he could muster, he could feel his shield folding firmly in place for the moment and relaxed his shoulders.

"Leave us, Severus…"

With a bow and not so much as a second glance, Snape strode out of the room to leave Draco standing before Voldemort. Not a moment later Draco felt the presence of Voldemort's magic slithering it's way into his mind. The abrupt entry catching Draco temporarily off guard and he panicked to regain control. He could feel his bones aching from the effort and winced the moment Voldemort retreated, as if he had gripped his brain and attempted to yank it from his skull.

He was toying with him. He knew he was. _Had Snape given him away? _

Doubling over, Draco leaned his weight on his knees, desperate to catch his breath. _No. No. No. What did he see? What did he fucking see?_

"You've kept me waiting Draco…" Voldemort hissed, and Draco felt something tug on his body to pull him to his full height. Though his actions were aggressive, Draco was surprised to notice how calm Voldemort remained. "…something more important to attend to, perhaps?"

Draco felt something wrap around his throat, the feeling of a thin rope slowly tightening until his head was dizzy with the effort to keep breathing, a moment later he was released. He buried the need to cough or gag, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"No, my lord." Draco rasped out, attempting to keep his voice even.

"Ah, well, if you say so then it must be true…" Voldemort grinned and the skin where his brows once laid wrinkled as he shoved them upward, "…you won't mind if I take a look for myself—?"

Before he finished his sentence the pressure knocked into his mind again and he felt all of his weight being shoved backward until he fell to the floor.

_No, No, No._

Vines shifted quickly, racing to scurry away from the intruder, to bury themselves, but it was no use— Draco could feel his body weakening with each passing second. The moment Draco recognized which vine the Dark Lord finally gripped on to it was too late...

He felt the grip around his mind deepen making him groan out in pain… The memories were tangled and revealed in flashes, hardly distinguishable if you weren't paying close attention, but Draco knew he was.

One vine was ripped from it's roots and the image of himself a year ago flashed before him, _he was standing in the center of a dark room, with a cauldron boiling hot green liquid before him, extending his left arm, a burst of green light spread across the room full of Death- Eaters, a searing pain sliced through him, the light settled revealing the Dark Mark branded into his skin—_

Another vine wrapped around that one made the image morph into him standing in front of a beast laying on the floor of the Manor's dungeons, _Voldemort commanding him to torture the female werewolf to prove his loyalty, Greyback was shaking with fury being held back by four other Death- Eaters, Bellatrix's voice rang through his ears 'DO IT! DO IT, DRACO! TORTURE HIS FILTHY MATE— _

Beneath that vine, another one revealed itself and it took everything in Draco's power to not pull it back. He knew that if he did then he wouldn't be able to hide the other memories… he wouldn't be able to hide Hermione…

So with little reluctance he let his hold of Pansy's vine go, immediately feeling the guilt tear at him—

_Greyback was standing in the dimly lit hallway outside of the drawing room, Pansy was unaware that he was waiting for her, he smelt Draco's sent on her in passing, and he wanted revenge for what Draco did to his mate, the sounds of her screams as he sunk his teeth into her replayed on a loop inside the memory until it stopped and the image of the Forbidden Forrest stretched out before him—_

With a ferocity he thought he no longer possessed he threw his shield back into place in his last effort to save whatever was left of him.

Abandoning the previous vines, Voldemort turned his attention to a more recent memory and Draco felt his heart stop as Theo and Blaise emerged in a blurry haze… Blaise's voice ringing above the memory 'May 7th' and then they were gone, and his vision abruptly returned to the meeting room in the Manor. Voldemort was still sitting calmly with Nagini hovering beside him.

Draco struggled to control his breathing as she forced himself to his feet, slipping once, noticing his arms too weak to hold himself up. Draco instantly felt himself release a breath of relief for all that he still kept hidden, not a second later did he feel the guilt poor over him—

He quickly shifted his guard to stake a hold at his labyrinth's entrance.

"My lord." Draco said quickly, hoping to regain some control or bid any amount of time he could before him diving into his mind again, not certain he would be strong enough to keep him from the deeper secrets a second time, "I thought it would be of interest to you to hear that Greyback has plans to expand his pack. It appears he is building his own army and plans on making a move the next full moon. If you were already aware of this information, forgive me, though I wanted to be sure that he did not believe himself capable of besting you."

Draco glanced up, his eyes hidden slightly behind his scattered fringe falling in his face, to see Voldemort watching him.

"Ah, so your intent was to warn me?" Voldemort asked, moving from his seat to stand. Nagini slithering up the back of the chair he was previously inhabiting and glided across the large table, inching closer to Draco.

"Yes, my lord." He answered, uncertain if Voldemort was confirming if he knew or not, but not daring to ask.

"And why is it that I was the one to summon you? Was there a reason you felt it important to delay such news?"

"I only wanted to be certain, my lord. The moment I had conformation I would have sought you immediately."

"I see…" Voldemort took to careful strides to the left, letting this gaze drift down Draco's frame and back up. "And the conformation you were seeking… it would be from the Parkinson witch, yes?"

Draco swallowed nervously, not needing the reminder that he had failed her again. "Yes, my lord."

"Tell me Draco, when Greyback sunk his teeth into her, did she cry for mercy? Did she beg for you to save her?"

Draco felt his jaw tighten. "She did my lord."

"And you did nothing…"

Draco was silent.

"You did nothing because you understand the importance to strengthen our numbers… the time for war is fading and a battle is looming upon the horizon to claim me as its victor. It is only a matter of time and I have no doubt that she will find her place among the pack. She will one day thank you for allowing her the privilege to make such a permanent sacrifice for the greater future we all hope to see…"

Draco only nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He wanted to vomit. He wanted Voldemort to go ahead and kill him for allowing him to access to Pansy so easily. No matter how desperately he tried he could never protect her.

"I would even venture to suggest that you should thank Greyback. Your connection to her was why he chose her after all, was it not? I believe your sent on her is what confirmed her as a target. His greatest flaw has always been revenge, and after what you did to his mate… well, wolves can be quiet temperamental beasts. I have no doubt part of him blames me as well and what you have revealed to me only confirms that…"

Draco snapped his eyes to Voldemort then, and a ghost of a smile crept across the man's translucent features. Draco knew he was testing him. He knew he needed to remain in control now more than ever. After several controlled breaths he nodded rigidly, focusing on keeping his mind empty.

"I have suspected you to be a wizard of many secrets Draco…" The Dark Lord started, stepping closer to the long table where Nagini was hissing, to stroke the large snake's scaly skin. "I do not fault you for keeping such things to yourself— though, I would hope you would trust my interests are not far from your own, or am I mistaken?"

It was clear that the question was rhetorical. Draco answered all the same with a bow of his head, "Not at all, my lord. I only meant to honor her desire for secrecy."

The reptile-like grin that ebbed across his thin, translucent features caused a surge of fear to spread through Draco's veins like spilled ink.

"Ah, yes—" the time that stretched between his next sentence Draco could feel his mind being sifted through, "while you value honor Draco, I find it much more tedious to waste any effort on what others deem… _respectable_. I find that adhering to a conventional standard of conduct to be exceptionally… _uninspired_."

The black cloak seemed to float across the stone floor as Voldemort moved around the table to stand before Draco. His long, skeletal fingers gently grasped in his wand hand curled around Dumbledore's old wand as he began lifting it until it rested just below Draco's chin, a hair's breath away from his throat. A chilling grin formed on his face, exposing a row of unnaturally sharp teeth as he tilted his head to examine Draco further.

"Tell me Draco— have I given you cause to become… _uninspired_?"

Draco felt the light magic tingle from the wand, taunting him, begging him to inch forward and allow it to touch his skin. The need to keep his hands at his sides was becoming unbearably difficult. Between his need to keep his thoughts hidden and his need to resist the urge to take the wand, Draco felt that death would be much more enjoyable in comparison. Swallowing once, hoping to keep his voice as even as possible, he raised his gaze to meet his.

"Of course not, my lord."

The unnatural color of red in his eyes held Draco's for several beats longer than Draco felt necessary. Eventually, Voldemort took a quick step back, seemingly satisfied, though he kept his gaze narrowed as if he expected Draco to break at any moment.

"I thought not."

He began floating towards the balcony then, his pale neck stretched and his chin remaining high as he gazed out the balcony window to where the night stretched before them. The moment his red glare no longer resided on Draco, he allowed his shoulders to relax slightly, desperate for some semblance of relief. He kept his mind blank, determined to use whatever ounce of strength he had left to keep his secrets tucked away. After at least twenty minutes of the Dark Lord contemplating his thoughts and Draco standing stiffly in the center of the room, the vicious hiss of Voldemort's voice filled the room once more.

"Diligence." His voice sounding far closer to a warning as he turned to look at Draco, "That is the only virtue that I require from you Draco. Nothing more. You are far wiser than your father ever was. It would be a pity for it to be the cause of your death."

Draco remained completely still. The longer he stood before Voldemort the weaker he became. He was sure he would break any moment… he heard the sound of a clock ticking far off in the distance and focused his attention on the monotony of the sound.

Voldemort began to float around him, the pressure inside Draco's mind crashing into his skull in waves challenging his forbearance.

His magic, Draco noticed, was far more receptive to the challenge than his body. The unsettling familiar brightness of light magic filtered across the room from Voldemort's wand seeping into Draco's body. It was obvious that the Dark Lord was oblivious to the occurrence as he continued to try and penetrate the fortress inside his mind. Draco remained completely still, concentrating instead on the clicking of the clock off in the distance.

_'__Tick'_

The warmth of the light magic buried itself in his veins fighting to flow as quickly as possible to his brain, pausing and twisting for only a moment with his magical core, strengthening him somehow.

_'__Tock'_

He could feel the hedges rattling from the relentless attempts at force of entry. Where they once appeared as impuissant green shrubbery of hedgerow, his minds labyrinth was now completely transmuted into solid stone.

_'__Tick'_

The efforts of the Dark Lord abruptly came to a halt. A tremor of terror spasmed inside Draco's chest as he found the manic wizard grinning at him, a breathy laugh shaking his lithe form.

_'__Tock'_

"Fascinating…"

Voldemort's grin remained, and Draco was completely unaware to what had just happened inside his mind. It was as if the light magic, once seeped into his veins, had taken over his magic and effortlessly defended his secrets. Draco was so puzzled that his breathing had become slightly erratic, but one could only tell by the simple rise and fall of his chest if they were paying close attention.

"Diligence…" Voldemort continued, "…is a virtue you have certainly mastered I see… one would trudge mercilessly through the meticulous labyrinthine maze, succumbing to the dreaded pitfalls of obsession for truth where there is none to be found before realizing that you have delicately designed one's path to insanity..." Voldemort lifted one finger and tapped it against Draco's temple …"All within your brilliantly deceiving mind… "

Draco tensed as Voldemort's hand floated down towards his shoulder, landing there and gripping it with a gentle ease that felt entirely wrong, so wrong.

"You are on your way to becoming a dangerously resourceful wizard my boy… to have crafted magic so delicately— enough to have perplexed even a wizard as practiced as me— only confirms my previous statement. You are on your way to becoming a dangerous wizard indeed."

There was a slight grimace in Voldemort's features and Draco imagined that this was the part where he killed him. Instead, he took a calculated step backwards, placing both of his bony hands in front of him. The sudden lack of proximity made Draco lightheaded. It was the oddest sensation. He felt completely out of sorts, out of his own body… his mind remained blank and the stone wall firmly in place.

"Do you know what I have learned from my previous failures?"

Draco only realized he had shook his head 'no' once Voldemort began to explain himself.

"To envy those who perplex you will only introduce you to what you lack yourself, but to learn from them and seek to master what you do not know… will introduce you to greatness…"

Draco held his breath, certain that Voldemort's need to give him a speech was leading to something… He was certain he had never spoken this long to him before.

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he wondered if this was how Voldemort had once spoken to his father. Draco could understand how one could be seduced by his words, enraptured by his promise for power and the ability to make you feel worthy of it, and only you. The falsity of it was easily overlooked when combined with fear for one's life. He wondered when his father recognized it's falseness— _too late, certainly_…

"Greatness…" The Dark Lord nodded, seemingly lost in thought as he looked down at the stone floor between them. "That is the only virtue I seek." His red eyes darted up to Draco's and focused on him. "It took me many failures to acknowledge this truth. Only fools disregard what can be learned from others…"

Draco swallowed, the heaviness in his mind was slowly ebbing its way back with more force than before, exhaustion wanted to consume him, but the lingering warmth in his veins reminded him that he needed to remain alert, guarded only a little bit longer…

"I have no desire for your secrets. Keep them. Harbor them as you must. If you do they will destroy you soon enough, of that I am sure."

This was the first time Voldemort spoke of harm befalling Draco, though the underlying threat was there the entire time. The thought made him shudder, forcing himself to double his efforts in attention to keeping his stone walls in place.

"But before they do I have another task for you… "

* * *

Lucius lounged in the chair in his study, regarding his old friend as he whispered closely with his wife from across the room. He rolled his eyes, clearing his throat and tapping his cane against his grand oak desk softly, until the two turned their attention to him.

"Ah, yes. So you can see me. Good." He sat up stiffly, rolling out his shoulders and cracking his neck. "I was beginning to think I was rendered invisible in the time you so rudely interrupted me and my wife in my home, completely unannounced..."

Snape's bored expression hardly wavered.

"Oh, stop your pouting Lucius. He only came to warn us of the Dark Lord summoning our son." His wife said evenly. "We haven't got much time."

"Yes. I am aware that our son will be in need of our assistance..." he glanced at the clock on his desk, "...I suppose right about now?"

"Wrong." Snape clipped, "Draco will manage against the Dark Lord this time..."

"How can you be certain?" Narcissa demanded. "What makes you think he's strong enough when you and I both have seen his strength begin to waver?"

Snape's gaze flickered to Lucius's, considering him for a moment, before glancing back towards Narcissa. She watched him, understanding his pause.

"Lucius, do you mind?"

Lucius frowned at his wife as she tilted her chin to the door. He lingered in his chair a moment longer with a disgusted snarl on his face. Narcissa huffed in frustration demanding he hurry as he stumbled with his weight against his cane and exited. She turned her attention back to Snape expectantly.

"There is a reason the Dark Lord has suspected that the late headmasters wand does not respond to him as it should." Snape began immediately, trusting his friend to pass the message along for him. He had a sinking feeling that this would be his last chance to meet with her, or anyone before his time came. "Garrick Ollivander has reminded me after my recent visit with him, that the wand only responds to the one who over-powered the previous owner. Albus Dumbledore is the previous owner and your son... it's true master."

"Draco?" Narcissa asked in disbelief, "but you killed Dumbledore, not my son."

"Moments before his death, Draco disarmed Dumbledore. There are only three wizards aware of this truth: myself, your son, and Mr. Potter."

"Why are you telling me this?" She demanded. "Am I meant to pity you? Or are you telling me because you intend to save yourself, forfeiting my son of your protect and placing him in the Dark Lord's path in your stead?" She paused, considering her friend for a moment, her anger leveling into understanding. "No... no, you wouldn't warm me if that were true. So is it pity then? Shall I weep for you? I fear you and I are both past deserving to be mourned Severus."

"My intentions have little to do with fear of my death or what anyone chooses to do following it... I only wish to impart on you the meaning of the final line in the prophecy and ensure you that while the Dark Lord uses the very wand that only responds fully to your son, no permanent harm will come to him."

"The wand is prevented from killing Draco? He can't harm my son?" She repeated, the relief in her eyes filling her features and Snape nodded in confirmation. "Well, and? What is it you've discovered of the prophecy?"

"It's not what I have discovered, but what you have shown me... though I'm certain you were unaware at the time."

"I haven't got the patience for riddle's Severus." Narcissa responded rolling her eyes.

"_The answer seen in her reflection..._ it was under my first attempt to sort out the 'her' that it was referencing to be Ms Granger. Though, after some consideration I understand now that it not referring to Ms Granger, but you Narcissa... The word reflection, I admit, caused for pause on several occasions, that was until your husband came to me begging that I convince you to see reason. He showed me a memory, a memory of the two of you and you know what was revealed to me? A painting..."

He noticed the woman stiffen in front of him, but he pressed on.

"A very gruesome painting, flooded with death and war and ultimately... victory. The woman standing in front of the painting was you, the lifeless woman within the painting unable to stare back was also you... your reflection."

Snape pulled a vial from his robes and lifted his wand tapping it once and the blank canvas behind them sprung to life, images rapidly creating themselves portraying the scene he was describing. Narcissa turned to the image with fear laced in her chest as she watched the imagines dance before her. Her son's form revealed itself, causing her to catch her breath. "Draco..." She whispered.

Her son was standing near the center of the painting, Dumbledore's wand tight in his grasp, a bright light emitting out of it blinding anyone near him. Upon closer inspection she realized his other hand was reaching out for something... someone...

"Who is he searching for?" She heard herself ask.

"_Allegiance of Power need be shifted_." Snape repeated in a monotone, the prophecy tasting bitter on his tongue, but he could not deny it as he had played with fate and prophecies before, the very cause of his suffering...

Narcissa gasped, eyes widening with realization.

"Harry Potter..."


	11. History & Destruction

**Chapter Playlist:**

_Eros : Ludovico Einaudi_

_Lost It To Trying - Paper Town Mix : Son Lux_

_Leave it Alone : Caroline Glasser_

_Can't Pretend : Tom Odell_

_Lost With Out You : Freya Ridings _

_Hugging you - Acoustic : Tom Rosenthal, Billie Marten_

_Lost My Mind (Acoustic) : Alice Kristiansen_

**A/N:** So many conflicted feelings for this chapter... i'm just going to leave it at that—

* * *

**_Flashback_**

**_Malfoy Manor_**

**_July 1996…_**

Narcissa curled her fingers tightly around her wand to keep herself from reaching for Draco. She shut her eyes and focused on the sound of her own breathing instead of the ragged, short breaths forcing their way out of her son. He was struggling more than usual today. She glanced over to where Severus was standing, a scowl laced his features as he hovered his wand above her son.

The room they often practiced in, Narcissa's parlor where she kept all of her painting and canvas' was now empty save for the three of them. It resided near the East Wing, detached from the rest of the Manor, which she preferred to ensure her privacy.

She grimaced as she heard another struggled breath escaped from Draco. She took a step forward instinctively, but stopped them moment Snape's hand flew up, the raven haired man didn't even turn to look at her as he focused on Draco once more.

"Again." Snape said, lifting his wand.

"I-I can't." Draco rasped, hunched over with hands pressed to his knees. He was panting and the white shirt he had entered wearing he parlor with hours ago was now covered with equal amounts of sweat and dirt.

Her son's face fell into a deep scowl as he turned his eyes up. She could practically feel the fury radiating off of him.

"Shall I take it a bit easier on you, perhaps?" Snape asked with a bored tone. "Do you think the Dark Lord will have the same sympathies..?"

"I just— I need a second!"

Narcissa winced as she saw Draco's back straighten suddenly and he feel to his knees, a grunt of pain escaping him. She willed her son to hear her…

_The only way to relief is to let it in— think of the maze, Draco. Take shelter there…_

A moment later Draco's breathing seemed to respond to her frantic worry and he began breathing more evenly. He slowly stood to his feet and met Snape's focused gaze. She watched as her son's shoulders rolled back and Snape lowered his wand.

"You are far more disciplined than this, Draco. Your focus is wavering. You'll be given your task soon enough." Snape's gaze roamed over Draco's contorted form, "We will continue tomorrow. Control your emotions… "

Draco scoffed as Snape turned to Narcissa and said his farewell.

Narcissa waited until he left before moving over to her son, who had slowly forced himself to the green and gold embroidered chair in the far corner, the colors a stark contrast to her son's pale skin that seemed fairer these days. She considered him for a moment, he was hunched over with his fingers pressed firmly into his temples. Stopping just before him, kneeling down, she offered him a sad smile as he brought his eyes to hers.

"What if I can't do it? What if I won't be able to do whatever he ask's me to do? And I fail like father? He won't show you mercy twice, mother—"

"Shhh— Draco…" She interrupted softly, reaching for his hand and holding it firmly. She smiled as his own fingers wrapped around hers almost instinctively. "That's why Severus and I have been preparing you, my dear. You are far more capable than you think. Now, let's try again…"

She stood to her full height, her chest tightening as her son slowly stood before her, nodding once. After several attempted to break through his mind's shields she found the foundation of his hold to be shaking more than usual. She tried not to think of the torture Snape had just made him endure to weaken his defenses, and pressed forward. She was able to see herself within his maze; only glances, but she knew the memory he was trying to keep from her and she immediately retracted her magic and focused on her son in front of her.

The sight of her son's chest shaking and his face portraying how desperate he was to hold everything he wanted to say and feel back from her broke her a little more with each passing second. Her heart longed to comfort him, though she knew she was far from capable of doing such with the life they found themselves gliding through…

"It's getting more difficult, isn't it?"

It wasn't a question he would answer. She knew this to be true, though she felt she couldn't allow her son to feel all of this responsibility alone. She took two steps towards him, kneeling down before him where he was hunched over now. She placed her hand gently on his cheek, urging him to lift his eyes to meet hers.

"That was not your doing, nor could you have done anything to stop my being tortured…" she said softly, "I would have gladly endured much worse if it meant keeping you safe."

She saw his eyes shut tighter as he shook his head, the sight of him in so much pain clawed deeper into her chest, burying itself and making a home near her love and fear for his life.

"You mustn't let it make you weak, Draco." She said then, hoping to sound more strong than she felt. "You know there is no shame in taking potions—"

"No." She flinched backward slightly as he lifted his piercing blue eyes to emphasize his intent. He took determined, focused. "I can't. I don't want to be numb."

She nodded. She understood he carried the burden of inheriting her inability to be emotionless, though they desperately tried…

"I'm not father." He added, his voice so fragile, breaking as he dropped his eyes from hers.

She knew he didn't intend for it to offend her, but it awakened her pain for her husband all the same. She stood to her feet.

"Perhaps that is enough practice for today. I can tell you've been over occluding as it is…"

"No. No. Mother, please." He pleaded, reaching for her hand stopping her from walking away. "I just need to know I can control it when I need to rely on it. That's all, I—" his eyes were pleading with hers. "I will only use it if it's absolutely necessary. I-I swear… just I need to practice a bit longer. Please."

She searched her sons pleading eyes, the depths of them full of waves of turmoil… she longed for the strength to still the raging waters…

She offered him a small smile.

"Very well." She lifted her wand, taking a step back. "Legilimens…"

* * *

**_Present _**

**_Theo Nott's Safe House_**

**_Early May…_**

As Narcissa slowly walked through the circular foyer she was immediately aware that the inward appearance of the Manor had been charmed extensively, as the immaculate interior did not match the haunted abandoned look of the exterior. Above her hung a large chandelier, one to rival many of her own, surrounding her was slate grey stone masonry walls delicately crafted to twinkle where the light from the chandlers candles shone upon them. Her heels echoed across the large foyer as she placed her wand in front of her.

"Homenum Revelio." She whispered into the grand hall that presented itself as she slowly moved deeper into the Manor. After confirming that she was alone, she moved forward admiring the place her son and his friends designated as their 'safe house'.

Straight ahead she hinted the smell of boiling potions, taking a peek into the grand kitchen seemingly turned potions lab, she noted the precision with which the person who prepared the Manor took to ensure it suited their needs, or particularly her sons.

The small details of which Theodore Nott took into considering her son as it's main resident was not amiss. Many of Draco's favorite candies, packs and packs of lemon drops from Honeydukes, sat upon the countertop. She noted the organization of the cauldrons and the ingredients in the large exposed cabinet taking up the entire wall across from her was exactly the way her son preferred— not in alphabetical order, but in order based on the particular potion and its potency in regards to its respective equivalent antidote.

As she strode further into the Manor, through the kitchen turned potions lab, she shoved two heavy black doors revealing the next room opening into a very large common room with a high stone ceilings and large wooden beams connected in the center, another impressive chandelier, and across from her, three floor to ceiling arched windows allowing the dim light of the setting sun to filter in across the vast room. Within this room held many more hints of her son's interest, she noted. The large book shelves covering the expanse of the far left wall held his particularly favorite texts, many pertaining to arithmancy and potions, even an entire section on charms, which Narcissa knew to be a secret favorite of Draco's— as he deemed the unpredictability and creativity with preforming the magic to be slightly exhilarating.

She smiled fondly as she walked around the large common room. It was very clear to her that her son was admired dearly by his friend.

The furniture was much the same, in simple taste as the rest though very thoughtful in its placement it would seem. The large leather sofa stretched out near the wall across from the book shelves, the three tall windows at its back. To the right stood a tall black marble fireplace that she slowly strode over to and sat in the emerald velvet wingback chair before it. It's position directly in sight with the foyer to make her aware of when they would arrive.

Lifting her wand, she watched as flames roared to life within the fireplace hoping to provide some warmth and light as she waited. Her mind suddenly drifted to the memory she had pondered on her journey to the safe house, the memory of her son's many Occlumency lessons. It was not the first time she pondered over the fear that the very magic she taught her son was the same thing that was slowly causing him to lose control. Her intentions to give him a way to protect himself had slowly become a weapon against himself as he relied on it far more than she ever intended him to.

It was clear to her that his abilities were beginning to weigh on him, and she couldn't help but wonder if he would have been better off without it. She thought by showing him how to protect his thoughts, secrets, his mind that she would be allowing him a freedom her husband never truly had, though now she wasn't sure if she had introduced him to a crutch, similar to Lucius and his need for numbing potions.

Not truly able to ponder the thought without breaking, she turned her attention away.

As her eyes scanned over the flames she internally replayed her intentions for coming here after her son's abrupt departure. He hadn't mentioned where it was the Dark Lord was sending him, but he insisted he needed to leave immediately. He hadn't even given her a moment to say goodbye. She wondered if that was for the best.

Severus' insight on the prophecy was her initial reason for coming, though the longer she imagined what to say to the girl her son had risked so much for she found there was much for her to consider…

Just as she began thinking where she would start their conversation the sounds of muffled voices came from across the grand room, near the foyer, behind the large black oak doors.

* * *

"I still don't understand why you felt it necessary for us to trudge through that swamp when the wards could have easily been placed closer or we could have simply apparated directly into this Merlin forsaken manor!"

Hermione, although hardly bothered by the trek and simply grateful to be out of Malfoy Manor, agreed with Blaise's observation. She was about to voice her thoughts, but before she could Theo had shoved the two large oak doors open to reveal the interior foyer of the manor, and she found she couldn't complain at all.

"Theo…" She gasped, taking in every detail. "You did all of this?"

He grinned over at her smugly, crossing his arms over his chest., then turned to Blaise and shot him a wink, "Me thinks the lady liketh."

Herminoe turned her attention away from the beautiful stone work in the walls to see Blaise frozen in place, his eyes focused on something to his left. She took a step closer to try and make out what he was starring at, her eyes roaming over the vast common room, slightly distracted by the tall ceilings and large bookshelves, that was until her eyes landed on the cool grey eyes and fierce stare of none other than Narcissa Malfoy.

The woman straightened her prestine dress robes as she stood, a twitch of a smile filtered over her red lips. Hermione could see the large flames dancing behind the woman in the tall marble fireplace, but all she felt was cold. An uncontrollable fear crept into her veins as the pulse in her chest seemed to stop in the moments it took for the woman to take one step forward.

"Good evening…"

Her voice sounded like the way a winter breeze feels after you've stepped out of the comfort of your home, quick, unexpected and entirely unwelcome. Hermione felt the woman's stare roam over the three of them until she kept them on hers.

"I apologize for the intrusion, though I'm afraid it was inescapable." She glanced at Theo and Blaise, "I was hoping to have a word with Miss Granger…_ alone_."

"Oh boy…" Theo muttered.

* * *

Draco was beginning to feel like all of the secrets, fears and heavy thoughts he had allowed to fester and build up inside his mind were soon not going to matter at all; actually he was certain they wouldn't, because he was almost positive that he was going to die tonight, possibly within the next few minutes…

He appeared confident, calm, collected even, on the outside as he stood before the large looming creatures within the Forbidden Forrest. Their dark gazes on their human-like features was what unsettled Draco the most, he thought. It was far more intimidating for a beast to be beast and have the human capacity to think and rationalize. _The power and strength of a beast, but the strategic skill and precision of a human…_ _yes, far more terrifying indeed_.

The Dark Lord was reacting to Draco's news on Greyback with haste. It occurred to Draco that perhaps the threat was far greater than Draco imagined and he wondered if he could use that to his advantage once he finally found Potter— though that wasn't the first thought that popped into his mind as he received his task— no, his initial thought had been '_You can't be fucking serious? Centaurs? You want me to recruit fucking centaurs?_'

And that was how he found himself here, in the Forbidden Forrest, again…

"This human is asking us to fight along side of the one who the heavens have already declared will kill the boy in a few moons time, what good would it do to interfere with what is already written—" One of the centaurs inquired, though not before being cut off by the one Draco thought appeared to be the leader. He was never good at names and thought it far to unimportant to care seeing as they were probably going to kill him any moment now. At least he could die with the small peace of knowing Theo and Blaise were able to get Hermione out of the manor successfully, his singlet ring buzzed twice signifying to him that all was calm on their end, and although he had sent the same signal back he wasn't so certain now…

"He is not _any_ human Ferron—" the leader roared back and Draco tensed as he turned his dark gaze back to him taking a step towards him, all four legs strong and firm in their stance before him. "— his mother speaks with the stars, the one who hears the heavens. Listen again to what it is he has asked of us!"

Draco realized they were all watching him then and he cleared his throat quickly, hoping to sound slightly less terrified than he felt.

"The Dark Lord requests your assistance against a new enemy, one he believes we all share— Fenrir Greyback."

There were several whispers and roars of anger shared between the centaurs and Draco breathed in several times attempting to remain calm, though his heart was beating fast within his chest and his forehead brimming with sweat, despite the cool night.

"This is a waste of time!" One of the centaurs shouted from within the pack, shifting to his hind legs, "Mars, bringer of war, continues to linger above shining until the battle is upon us—"

Another roared in agreement adding, "Yes! What is this to do with us?"

"What has been foretold in the stars has shifted!" The leader roared back, kicking his hind legs out, moving closer to Draco to stand beside him. Draco was certain he should move, but it felt disrespectful somehow. He glanced up nervously, swallowing his fear as he realized he was one gallop away from being trampled by the beast. "We know it to be in response to the Dragon, the guarder of the gardens, and he has come to us. We have sworn to not set ourselves against the heavens and by turning our back on the Dragon we would be doing so!"

Draco stared wide eyed at the centaur, completely still. He knew the leader was defending him, but had no idea what he was talking about. Before he could even try and piece together what was happening the leader was demanding they all return to the forrest for rest and he would join them shortly.

Draco flinched as the rush of hooves against the forrest floor echoed loudly, similar to the crackling of thunder snapping around him. He held his breath waiting as the last lingering centaur came to join the leader at his side, both of them standing tall before him. The second one bowed and Draco wasn't sure if he was meant to return it, but he did.

"Is this truly the one who has caused the prophecy to change?" The second centaur asked in awe to the leader, then turned his gaze down to Draco, an odd smile on his dark features. "The Dragon…"

Draco shifted from one foot to the other, still uncertain what he was meant to say in return. He just wanted to get the fuck out of there as quickly as possible. Luckily the leader spoke before he had to come up with something.

"I have no doubt that he is."

"But I thought the shift meant the boy no longer has to die—"

"Enough!" The leader said quickly, "There is already enough strained interpretation amongst our family. There is no use questioning what the heavens have revealed."

"Um, what is—" Draco started and then stopped once both centaurs turned to face him. He swallowed quickly and managed to blurt out, "What prophecy are you referring to exactly?"

The leader tiled his head in thought. He turned to the second one.

"It appears the heavens interpreter has not shared the prophecy with her son."

Draco tensed at the mention of his mother. "I-I don't— I don't understand. You know my mother…? "

"Yes, you're mother visits when the heavens speak. They speak to her often. She reveals them to us in her paintings and we give them words, speaking them to life." The second one answered with a sense of respect in his tone, which Draco found slightly pleasant all things considering.

"And this prophecy," Draco asked, "you mentioned the death of a someone—?"

"As I said, it doesn't concern us to question the heavens." The leader said firmly. "All we are meant to do is ensure that what is said becomes so."

"And what is it exactly— that is so? Er, I mean— what did the heavens say will become?" Draco asked in what he most definitely thought was gibberish, but the second centaur seemed to understand as he began to lift his head to the stars and repeat the words that felt familiar to Draco somehow…

"**Fairness so bright, paler than light, seeking refuge, but lacking sight— in a crimson pool he will stand, protecting a life near its end— the answer seen in her reflection, to reveal an allegiance of Power need be shifted**…" The centaur brought his dream-dazed stare down to Draco, "… the cause of the shifting stars, the Dragon…"

Sounded a bit too rhyme-y to Draco, not to mention complete nonsense.

"Ahh…." That was all he managed to say as he frowned, deep in thought.

"Some believe the previous prophecy would bring death to the Chosen One, though in the second prophecy that fact remains, the heavens have revealed an altering outcome in accordance to the decision of the Dra—"

The leader took a step forward silencing the second centaur and bowed slightly to Draco, "We will be ready to fight when the time comes, Dragon."

This caused Draco's head to snap up and he felt a heavy weight lift from his chest knowing he had managed to complete another mission without fail. He bowed to the leader and then the second centaur.

"I will inform the Dark Lord of your loyalties." He said as the sound of a twig snapping off in the distance caught his attention. He turned quickly on his heel, lifting his wand pointing out in front of him.

"Who goes there?" The leader roared, moving to stand before Draco.

As the other centaur moved in front of him too he felt an odd sensation jolt through him at the sight. Centaurs hated humans as far as he could remember, but they were defending him?

"Show yourself human!" The second centaur bellowed. "We can smell you and the retched stench of the castle!"

Draco frowned the moment he saw the familiar blur of raven-colored hair and black robes floating around the new headmaster.

"Hello Bane, Ronan…" Snape's bored tone drawled out over the two beasts, falling over Draco causing the previous pride he felt with completing his mission completely evaporate. "Seems a peculiar night to be so close to the castle, does it not?"

"Snape. You have no business within our woods…" The leader said dropping his head slightly to deepen his glare in the wizards direction.

"It is always my business, Bane, when students are out after curfew, not to mention…" Snape's eyes floated to Draco's, brow lifting in suspicion, "…in the Forbidden Forrest."

Sensing the rising tension between the beasts and Snape, Draco quickly took a step forward.

"Thank you, Bane, Ronan." He said, inwardly thanking Snape for having said their names. "I look forward to the next time me meet."

The two beasts did not bring their eyes from Snape's as Draco made his way across the short distance to Snape's side.

"You'll inform Firenze that his connection to our pack no longer remains. He'll do well to remember that and not inform you of every instance one of our family lingers to closely to the castle. His betrayal will one day see it's reckoning."

"Ah, yes. It would bring me great joy to remind him of your hatred towards him." Snape drawled unconvincingly, glancing around the Forrest with a narrowly suspicious gaze. "If that's all then..."

The moment Draco stood within arms reach he felt his arm being yanked and his body pulled in all directions as Snape apparated them away.

* * *

Draco's feet stumble across the floor until his body thankfully collided with something, allowing him to gain his balance before falling. He turned quickly, breathing rapidly, searching for Snape, taking in his surroundings he quickly realized they were in his office. He found the pair of black iris' boring into his own, his normal glare tingling with a hint of amusement or repulsion— Draco wasn't sure.

His last encounter with the Headmaster replayed in his mind.

_Keep her hidden._

Snape said nothing at first, only regarded Draco as he regained control back over his breathing.

"I would have thought your exhaustion would have worn on your abilities by now, but it appears you have found a way to… _adapt_."

Draco could feel the weight of his word choice, as if he knew what the light magic had done while he was being interrogated by the Dark Lord.

"Perhaps the student has surpassed its master." Draco said plainly, knowing Snape to be an impatient man, and would get to the point quicker if he felt challenged in any way.

"Perhaps." Snape repeated, his gaze flicking over Draco's frame. "I'm correct in assuming the centaurs are for recruitment as a response to what you've shared with the Dark Lord?"

"Yes." Draco answered, he could feel the repeated attempts of Snape's magic curling around the stone hedges, not finding a single entry point, though the longer he remain the heavier Draco's limbs felt. It was clear that the light magic had lingered within his mind, though the more time he spent away from the wand, it seemed to fade.

He needed to be able to control it himself if it completely lost its effects on his maze. He really needed to sleep. As if observing that very same, Snape seemed to regard the circles beneath his eyes.

"I see…" Snape took a step closer to Draco, his hands firmly behind his back. "And tell me, Draco, does Miss Granger have as much difficulty sleeping as you seem to have? I'd assume you to be quiet familiar with her sleeping habits by now…"

Draco tensed at the mention of Hermione, but was determined to not convey the way the mention of her seemed to weigh on his ability to occlude. He remained silent.

"Tell me, Draco… when was it that you decided her worth saving?" Snape took a calculated step forward, regarding Draco with interest as if he could sense the topic was causing him to weaken his defenses. "Was it the moment she stumbled into the manor with Potter or perhaps, much sooner? Your mother believes it to be the former, while I have my own theories…"

Draco's jaw clinched as he focused on keeping his gaze even with Snape's heated one. He knew there was deeper intention under what the headmaster was saying. The sound of a breathy laugh coming from him caught Draco of guard, causing him to frown in confusion.

"You have truly delusioned yourself, haven't you? I had hoped the mild infatuations from your childhood memories were simply that, but it appears I have underestimated your ability to disappoint me…" Snape shook his head, "Tell me, Draco, have you considered what happens when you free Miss Granger and she is no longer your prisoner...?"

Draco could feel his hands shaking with the need to hex his crooked nose off his face. When Draco didn't respond, Snape lifted his brow with a false since of surprise.

"No? Hmm, how very careless of you. Well, allow me to enlighten you— save you the discomfort of allowing your pathetic feelings to deepen any further…" Snape took another calculated step forward. "The moment Miss Granger is free to do as she pleases she will leave you behind and return to Potter without a second thought. Then what will become of you, I wonder? Turning your back on your family and the Dark Lord… what will be left?"

Before Draco knew what he was doing he had his wand gripped tightly, the tip digging into Snape's neck. He could feel the heat radiating off of his skin as he glared at the pale face of his old professor who remained completely still, his expression unwaveringly calm.

"You know that I am right." He continued evenly, "Believing yourself worthy of deserving the girl will only amount to your immense agony… She will never be yours, Draco."

Draco's knees felt weaker. His words sliced through him, he felt his grip on his wand loosen as it dropped to his side— his words ebbing deeper within his mind, voicing the truth Draco allowed himself to avoid in the moments he found himself with Hermione.

He lifted the heel of his hands to his eyes, pressing them deeper until he thought he could physically shove the thoughts away; the thoughts that made him remember that the only reason she had reached for his hand, let him comfort her, spoken to him about her scars— all of it happened because she was his _fucking_ prisoner and the moment she wasn't—

He opened his eyes to find Snape still watching him, remaining completely still, though there was no trace of amusement in his eyes.

"What difference does it make to you?" Draco finally asked, very aware how bitter he sounded. He could hardly keep his weight from falling to his knees, leaning against the desk behind him for support as every breath felt like someone was forcing rocks down his throat.

Draco was going to repeat himself even louder when Snape didn't respond, but something in the headmaster's expression made him falter.

He considered the thoughtful look on Snape's face and was certain he had never seen the smallest hint of concern that appeared from the pull of his brow… not even when the muggle studies professor was attacked and killed before his eyes after she had called out to him, not even when his mother was tortured before him, nor even when he stitched up Draco's chest in the girl's dormitory after Potter's lethal attack—

"She will return to Potter and when she does you will be openly rejected— If you care for her as much as I assume you do then I fear that when she does go to Potter, you will have to carry the weight of letting her go, placing her in harms way with no way to protect her because she will not allow you to—" His voice sounded smaller, gentler, "Once she turns her back on you, that will be it— she will be out of your life forever and if she dies… it will haunt you until the end of your days…"

Draco watched as Snape's brow furrowed together and he cleared his throat, the very odd sight of seeing him with any emotion even the smallest hint, was unnerving.

In an instant his usual callous was projected upon his features and he took a step back, "I only say this to keep you from the type of pain and guilt that no one ever prepared me for. Do with the warning as you wish."

Snape turned on his heel, his robes twisting around his ankles as he took the few steps to his grand desk. Draco felt like someone had cast a body-binding curse on his entire form; the only movement coming from his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

"I will inform the Dark Lord of your success with the centaurs. I'm sure you will want to hurry back to Miss Granger as I believe your mother is currently forcing her through some semblance of an interrogation as we speak…"

"My mother—?" Draco asked, blinking rapidly trying to catch up to the realization that Snape had just confessed something much too outlandish for him to consider at the moment,_ and now he was to believe his mother was with Hermione? _

"Ah, yes. The moment you left on your mission, she deemed it her responsibility to seek out one of her own, seeking out Mr. Nott's safe house I believe is what she was rambling about…"

The adrenaline in his veins responded to the news and he shuffled quickly forward, towards the fireplace.

"I— I have to go—"

"Draco." Snape said before Draco could turn to the Floo. "The prophecy… see to it that Miss Granger remedy the last of it for you, hm?"

Draco was certain his mind couldn't handle any more fucking riddles— _and how did everyone seem to know about this damn prophecy?_ He didn't even try to make sense of the words as he stepped into the Floo and left Snape alone in his office.

* * *

Hermione fidgeted with the hem of Malfoy's sweater as she sat in the wingback chair across from Narcissa Malfoy. The fact that she was able to admit that internally without fainting was not lost on her. She nervously glanced from the two wizards back to the regal woman who was speaking to them with a sense of poise Hermione was sure only the Queen of England possessed. It was very apparent that the woman had clearly known that Hermione was alive for she showed no hint of surprise in her features.

Hermione's heart had settled slightly after entering the vast common room and Narcissa had explained her being there was not any way a sign that Draco was in trouble and she had no intentions of harming Hermione, she simply wanted to talk. Hermione was pressed to remind the woman that her sister had once admitted the same thing and that ended with her torture and a life threatening curse to remain in her veins, but opted from speaking as she found she suddenly wasn't able to. She blamed it on shock, or something similarly as dizzying.

"Oh, and Theodore—"

Hermione watched as Theo and Blaise paused from the foyer and turned to look at Narcissa.

"If you return to the manor, the wards on our dungeons seem to have been tampered with. I meant to mention something to Lucius, but I won't be able to get around to it until I am finished here. Would you two be so kind as to check in… make sure that everything is… as it should be. I'd hate for any of the prisoners to show up missing because of my sister's ineptitude, as she was the last to visit the dungeons from what I recall…"

A smirk spread over Theo's face and Blaise just blinked in bewilderment.

"Not a problem Cissy—"

"Theodore." The woman's voice immediately sounded threatening as her eyes narrowed and Hermione could practically feel the iciness of her glare cut through the room and slice into Theo's. "It is and will always remain Mrs. Malfoy to you… always."

Theo swallowed nervously, nodding quickly as a strange awkward laugh fumbled from his lips, "Right, no of course, Mrs. Malfoy."

"We'll see to it." Blaise said, bowing slightly and Hermione finally felt her sorts returning enough to want to roll her eyes at the gesture— she wasn't _actually_ the Queen…

The thought of rolling her eyes immediately vanished as Theo and Blaise disappeared from the room and out the large front doors, and she turned back to the woman who was watching her closely. The fire danced beside them and the hear from the flames were a welcome distraction to how terrified Hermione felt in that moment. _How dare Theo and Blaise just leave her—_

"Is this how he's kept you all this time?" Her voice sounded the way silk felt then, soft and alluring, and Hermione was having a difficult time deterring if she should be afraid or comforted by it, much like she felt in the beginning of residing in Draco's room. "Wearing nothing but one of my abandoned night gowns and a knitted sweater he hasn't worn since he was a boy?"

Hermione remembered then that, yes, that was exactly what she had been wearing, and was increasingly aware of how more put together the woman before her appeared. She looked every part of the perfect Pureblood wife, with her hair and attire completely set in place and clinging to her. The moment the woman reached into the small bag she brought with her Hermione tensed, Narcissa sensing her weariness, only offered a small smile.

"I understand why this may be hard for you to believe— I should have already begun apologizing for what happened to you on my drawing room floor, but, I assure you my dear, I have no intentions of harming you…"

Hermione nodded, still struggling with finding her voice. She watched as the woman pulled out some clothes and she placed it on the small table before them.

"For you, if you'd like…"

"Thank you." Hermione said, running her fingers over the fitted jeans and black long sleeve shirt, surprised to find that they were muggle brands. She had even bought her some heather grey boots and placed them on the floor.

"I wasn't sure what you would like, but the muggle shop I stopped by had their stale humans wearing something similar."

"Stale humans?" Hermione asked, completely unsure what the woman was saying, not to mention completely shaken that Narcissa Malfoy had gone shopping, for her, in a muggle shop— _stranger things have happened Hermione… like her son saving your life, or her sitting in front of you right this moment— _

"Oh, yes. The pale figures that model the clothes." Narcissa said waving her hand in between them as if the information hardly mattered. Though, Hermione was fairly certain she was referring to manikins and she desperately wanted to laugh, he simply smiled and mumbled a thank you.

"Anyway," she continued, "that's hardly why I've brought myself all this way… I only suspected my son's attention to your needs may be lacking and wished to arrive prepared. He's certainly had much on his mind…" she offered Hermione a soft smile, and it did seem to ease the tension slightly— their mutual concern for her son.

"Why are you here?" Hermione asked timidly. "Has— has something happened to Malfoy?"

"No, my dear, he is perfectly well for the time being. Just on another mission—" she shifted slightly in her seat, avoiding Hermione's gaze for a moment and then bringing her piercing eyes back to hers. "—may I be to the point dear? Excuse my lack of decorum, but I fear I do not have much time with you and there is much I'd like to share before I go."

"Oh— um, yes…"

The small smile on the woman's face faltered as she considered what she seemed to want to say next. Hermione watched as she reached into the bag once more and pulled out a small silver case clasped shut, placing it in her lap as she reached in once more to pull out several journals, _Draco's journals_…

"You've seen these I would presume?"

Hermione nodded, regarding the black journals that she flipped through days ago and the sketch of the beautiful woman looking out over the garden clicked in her mind. _The woman in the drawings was his mother…_

"I introduced my son to a very power gift when he was a boy—" she smiled slightly then as she thumbed through the pages and continued speaking to Hermione. "—he was spectacularly intuitive, adaptive and so desperate for knowledge… I knew he'd pick up the craft far quicker than I ever did. You know what I'm referring to, do you not?"

"You mean in regards to his use of Occlumency?" Hermione asked and the woman nodded. Hermione blushed, the embarrassment of admitting that she went through Draco's things clear across her face. "Well, it was very obvious after stumbling upon his notes and journals. He also revealed a way to display his memories to me, through the journals... I've noticed him shielding his emotions on occasion and well, I knew he must be able to disclose information if he was able to keep my being alive a secret from You-Know-Who."

"Yes…" Narcissa frowned slightly, "…and have you noticed it effecting him in anyway? Weakening him, perhaps?"

"Um, yes… well, he's fainted, but we thought it was because he hadn't been sleeping or perhaps overusing the practice— but forgive me, is there something— do you know what's happening to him?" Hermione was suddenly anxious as she regarded the woman's knowing look. It was strange, as if the woman was aware of much more than she should be privy to.

"You understand don't you? My need to give him a way to protect his mind…?"

The questions caught Hermione slightly off guard as the woman's eyes trained on her, seeking for some sort of conformation that Hermione didn't find fault in her for the burdens she allowed her son to carry.

"I do." Hermione said, fully aware that she was telling the truth; although she knew something was happening to Draco because of the use of magic, she still understood why he would need it.

"My son's abilities to occlude is not faltering due to overuse or exhaustion, my dear, but because his mind has begun to react to his magic's response to _you_…"

"I-I'm not sure I understand…"

Narcissa smiled then, grazing her fingers over one of the sketches and then glancing back up at Hermione.

"Draco's magic is a wondrous thing— it reacts and adapts to protect him, even from himself, it always has… You see, magic stems from the heart not the mind, my dear… do you understand what I am telling you?"

Hermione was silent.

"His magic is trying to destroy what is in the hearts way… and that just happens to be the very thing that's protecting him— his's mind is a labyrinth. He's built a fortress to protect so many secrets within— one of those secrets being his growing feelings for you."

Herminoe blinked several times, unsure of what to say or what to make of the information. She was struggling with the idea of Draco's repressed feelings towards her causing him to lose control on his ability to shield his mind— not to mention him having such feelings to begin with.

"I-I'm sorry…" Hermione shook her head, leaning forward slightly— she wasn't used to feeling lost and that was exactly how she felt with the weight of her words. "… but if it is as simple as not repressing ones feelings then why haven't you simply told him to no longer do so?"

"I'm certain he has not allowed himself to _fully_ consider his true feelings towards you or the labyrinth would certainly be crumbled ash by now. No, he is particularly talented in avoiding what he believes will cause him pain. Once he allows himself full realization, I'm afraid he will also be releasing his control over his labyrinth and in turn, no longer capable of keeping his secrets from the Dark Lord or any other… His magic will demand it."

"What can we do to prevent that from happening? Isn't there something we could do—"

"I wouldn't dream of it." Narcissa said quickly, causing Hermione to abruptly close her mouth. "All I have ever wanted for my son is to no longer need to hide himself from the world— " the woman's eyes brimmed with tears then as she focused her attention on one of the drawings in the journal laying open across her lap, "…to no longer keep his brilliant mind and beautiful creations from changing the wizarding world the way I've always known he was meant to…"

Hermione felt a pang of guilt forming in her heart, but she wasn't certain where it was coming from as she watched Narcissa lift her gaze to hers, the tears cause her piercing gaze to soften, the color of ice reminding Hermione of the same color in her son's eyes.

"I am not telling you this in hopes that you can stop his labyrinth from deteriorating— I am telling you this in hopes you will help him destroy it."

* * *

Hermione sat in the same chair for what felt like hours after Narcissa departed. The ambers in the marble fire place were still flickering to life near her, but only just—

She glanced down at the vial clasped in her fingertips, gently rolling it between them as the silver vapor within appeared to shift and dance, pulling her into a trance-like state. After Narcissa explained to Hermione that she wished for her to destroy the one thing protecting Draco from the Dark Lord, she continued to reveal many other reasons for her visit.

With her eyes still on the vial containing a mysterious memory, she replayed the following scene:

_I'll ask you not to view it until this has all passed… I know I should not be afforded to ask anything of you, my dear, but I emphasize my desire for you to wait to view it with my son after the war all the same._

Hermione inhaled a shaky breath as she blinked uncertainly at the band upon her left ring finger with the words _'UNITATIS PRAESIDIUM_' inscribed in intricate cursive on the inside of the band. The image of the silver box in Narcissa's lap, her delicate fingers slowly opening it hours ago to reveal the same band replayed in her mind:

_It is a tradition for Pureblood women, to pass down the unity ring of protection to their son's chosen companion. Legend has made it known that the ring offers protection for the united couple, binding them to make a promise to protect their companion in their unity and as long as that promise is upheld so will their protection over their family._

As if sensing Hermione's rising alarm Narcissa reached over and calmly placed her hand over hers for comfort.

_My intention was not to alarm you or make you feel that you have to accept this from me, as I am completely aware that your inner turmoil in regards to your feelings is in a similar state of my son's, there is no certainty with accepting this ring, I only ask that you consider keeping it safe for me until you do decide._

It felt wrong, wearing it on her finger. The woman was proposing Hermione be with Draco forever? Hermione was only just beginning to accept that she trusted him— and yes, she often thought about kissing him too, but a promise ring? Deciding to unwrap the string the vial was attached, Hermione laced the string through the circle band and tied a knot, keeping the two pieces together.

The heaviness in her chest had long sense subsided in the hours that passed and now she was completely shocked into a state of confusion considering why Narcissa felt the need to leave this with her. Some rational part still active within her brain feared Narcissa was tying up loose ends, as one would if they were aware that their death was on the horizon.

As if the vial containing an unknown memory and a promise wasn't already enough, the woman had been adamant on sharing her experience with the curse that remained in both of their veins. Talking about the curse only reminded Hermione of the pain that still lingered, the constant dull ache in her arm. She knew it was only a matter of time before she would endure the process Narcissa described for her.

_I will not sugar-coat it my dear… it is as excruciating as the blade itself, if not more, as the pain from one swipe of the blade feels as if it is being repeated with every attempt of extracting the curse from your veins. The first round is by far the worst, and the ones following after become slightly less intolerable, but not much… my son has brilliantly adjusted the process with each round I've endured to ensure I feel less pain each time. He has taught Lucius the practice as well— thankfully, one less burden for my son to feel responsible to carry… _

Hearing about the process from Narcissa as apposed to hearing it from Draco was very different. Where Draco timidly avoided the pain involved, instead focusing on the intricate details of the curse itself, Narcissa only spoke of the pain and the need to be rid of it; both of their explanations only confirmed how impressed she was with what Draco has accomplished to diminish the curse's effects.

But it was Narcissa's departing words that Hermione found herself focusing on now as she glanced over at what was left in the fireplace, the flames brightness dimmed into scattered bits of red and yellows, leaving the room in mostly darkness, save for the moonlight pouring in from the arching windows.

_It will be up to you to decide what to do with all that I have revealed tonight Miss Granger, but while you determine what it is you wish to do I only ask you to consider how different your life would be had you not been given the opportunities to explore your instincts— to live your life without the freedom to feel and act without fear of putting those you love in harm by doing so; that is what it has always been like for my son … _

_I would venture Mr. Potter would not be so lucky if he did not have you and your daring instincts by his side…_

Hermione understood that Narcissa was giving her a choice, but she couldn't help but feel that it wasn't fully hers to make— it was Draco's.

The sound of the large oak double doors being shoved open pulled Hermione out of her reverie. Her fingers wrapped tightly around the vial and ring, and she quickly shoved them into the back pocket of the jeans she changed into shortly after Narcissa left. As she finished shoving the items away her gaze flicked across the room to see a very frantic looking Draco jogging into the room, stopping short as his eyes landed on her form rising from the chair.

They each took the split second to settle their racing heartbeats before moving forward to close the distance. The rising panic of him leaving hours earlier infiltrated her senses as she reached for him, griping both of his forearms to steady him, as he seemed to sway slightly, his eyes sweeping frantically over the room, searching...

"Mother— is she_—_ Is she here?" his breathing was unsteady as if he had just run all this was, Hermione noticed the bottom of his pants drenched in the damp earth and his usual put together attire now noticeably not, his hair seemed to have been run through by his hands several times over; eventually his eyes settled on hers, the frantic tension radiating off of him.

"Malfoy, slow down..." she urged him to follow her to the sofa, "Are you alright? What happened—"

"I'm fine—" he said quickly, as he settled into the sofa next to her, his gaze roamed over her clothing, "My mother came here, didn't she?"

"Malfoy—"

"Where is she now? What did she want—"

"Malfoy—" she tried again as he stood and began pacing before her, then stopped, eyes narrowing as they landed on the black journals scattered on the table.

"What did she tell you—"

"Draco!" Hermione said impatiently, shoving to her feet to stand before him. She reached her hands to land on either side of his face and the moment he felt her touch she felt him relax slightly into them. "Breathe..."

She took in his features then as he shut his eyes tightly, breathing in deeply and exhaling... she frowned, noticing the dark circles under his eyes much more obvious. She forced thoughts of Narcissa's request away and focused only on him.

"Draco..." she said hardly above a whisper. The skin along her collarbone and chest tingled as a sigh escaped him at hearing her use his first name, his cool breathe grazing her skin. He opened his eyes then, the tension all but vanished as he placed both of his hands around her wrist to lower them to rest between them, "When was the last time you slept?"

He shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching and a shaky laugh escaped him, "I-I honestly don't know."

Hermione let her shoulders fall slightly, nodding. Determination set in her bones, she took a step back lacing her fingers in his and began pulling him behind her. They were half way up the stairs when he seemed to piece together what was happened.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to bed Draco Malfoy," she said primly, and then smiled over her shoulder sensing his step falter slightly as she paused half way up the grand stair case. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer me not to join you? Either way I'm demanding you sleep."

She saw his head shake almost immediately, "No, um— by all means..." the shock fading from his features and morphing into anticipation to move forward. She nodded once and continued her way up the stairs, a smile tugging on her lips the entire time, though her stomach was fluttering with uncertainty.

Once she pushed open the first door down the rather large hall on the second floor she turned to him, crossing her arms, tilting her head towards the bed. Ignoring the blush on her cheeks from the small smirk he was trying to hide as he slowly stepped past her in obedience and stood near the edge of the bed, turning towards her. He glanced around the large room, avoiding her gaze as she moved towards him.

She noticed his fingers seemed to be twitching where they remained by his sides, making images of the possibilities of what Voldemort put him through whirl around in her mind.

"Your mother did come by and I know you want to know why— probably as much as I want to know what happened with You-Know-Who, but you can't keep pushing yourself the way you have been, Draco." She took a few steps towards him, noticing the way he kept his focus from hers. "So, this is me forcing you to slow down. After you've rested we can both continue with our relentless worrying and interrogating one another, but not until then."

Although he still looked like he wanted to argue, she didn't miss the way his shoulder sagged in relief and he nodded; a silence spread between them, then he tilted his head up slightly, eyeing her from behind the stray mess of blonde hair.

"And you'll stay with me?"

His stare seemed to be reaching out, wrapping itself around her throat, tightening it's hold—

Eventually, she nodded, managing a level slightly above a rasp, "As long as you need..."

Not able to focus on his intense grey eyes she stepped around the bed, trying desperately to pretend she didn't see the smile that stretched on his face as he moved to do the same on the opposite side.

She settled near the center of the bed and amusedly watched as he shoved off his shoes and scorgified the mud from his pants. He glanced up to see her watching him as he shrugged his cloak off, but she didn't look away. The few lanterns scattered around the large room cast shadows over his features, intensifying his already darkened gaze roaming over her body as he settled beside her. She tried not to tense as his arm pressed against hers, and released a slow breath as she watched the shadows from the lanterns flames dance upon the ceiling. Several moments passed without either of them saying a word.

The side of her face tingled, sensing his eyes on her as she concentrated on breathing in, out—

"You're meant to be sleeping." She whispered eventually, tucking her lip under her tooth as she craned her neck to face him, immediately regretting bringing his attention to her mouth as she released it. He swallowed nervously as he brought his eyes back to hers. The candle light flickering over half of his face, revealing a new depth to the color of his eyes, lips, and hair like a painting coming to life.

"You specifically said '_rested_'—," he said in a low hum to match her own, "—and there was no mention of where I could or could not stare..."

"Draco—" she started to say, but he sighed shutting his eyes.

"Please, don't—" he laughed a bit breathless, the sound of it making her shiver, and opened his eyes, "—don't fucking same my name like that, when we're like this— not if you insist I sleep and not..."

He trailed off as his gaze slowly trailed downward.

Despite her holding her breathe, she some how managed to exhale.

Slowly.

Eventually.

After several moments of guiltily enjoying of how unfairly, and perfectly stunning he was...

"—not what?" she responded softly, as she slowly shifted her body to face his.

His entire body seemed to go rigid as he held her stare, seconds later turning to his side as well, bringing them face to face. His fingers slowly moved from where they were reaching towards her, gently grazing her jaw, and resting beneath as his thumb softly traced her bottom lip.

"—and not kiss you—" were the last words she remembered hearing before her ability to understand anything besides him inching closer melted away, his lips found hers with a sense of tenderness that often came with uncertainty; from the knowledge on both sides that even if it made no sense to either of them, after all they had been through, they would make all the same choices over again, if only they would end up here.

His fingers moved to tangle themselves in her hair, pulling her closer to him the moment he felt her lips respond to his, as if he now had her permission to take full advantage; abandoning his gentleness from the initial touch, replacing it with an urgency, pressure, and direction, tilting his head to deepen their kiss as if he believed it would be their last and only.

Sensing the heat rising where his hand trailed down her side, resting over her hip, fingers curling into her skin, begging to close the few inches between them so that she could feel the warmth he was so desperate to give her, and fighting every need to continue she brought her hand to his chest, removing her mouth from his. Sensing her pause he shift back to meet her eyes as she slowly allowed them to flutter open.

"This is not what I meant by resting..." she managed to say between her attempts to catch her breathe.

"I-I'm sorry— I shouldn't have, um—"

"No." She smiled reaching to place her hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her. "I'm glad you did. I just— I need you to sleep."

_I need you to be okay._

The hand that was on her hip moved to her lips once more, his fingers gently grazing back and forth as he focused on them; his expression seemed at ease, yet contemplative as if he was deciding what to do next. Then he brought his gaze to hers causing her heart to stop.

It was intoxicating, the look in his eyes as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips... It felt light, pure— such a stark contrast to look she had become so familiar with, the one where there always seemed to be a fight raging behind his gaze, a fight to keep himself hidden, protected; always just out of reach...

It was then that Hermione allowed herself to consider his mother's earlier request, she allowed herself to wonder if maybe she was right, maybe Draco did need to be rid of what kept him from ever truly feeling vulnerable...

If it meant he would look at her this way forever, well, she was certain she would do anything...

She placed her hands on either side of his face bringing her lips to his once then pulling back, shifting them so that his head lay beneath hers over her chest hoping he could feel how fast her heart was beating— its rhythm saying the words she wasn't ready to admit aloud—

He settled his cheek against her heartbeat, tucking himself into her side wrapping his arm across her as her fingers scratched gently through his hair.

"You can rest now," she whispered after a few moments, and then when she was certain she heard his breathing even out and she thought him asleep added, "I'm not going anywhere..."

* * *

**A/N**: eek


	12. Rescues & Revelations

**A/N**: Hello — I did post this earlier and then take it down so if you got a notification, I apologize... I needed to change a few things before it was ready. Anyway, this is a rather long chapter and I hope you enjoy it!

**Chapter Playlist**

_Come Back For Me : Jaymes Young_

_To Die For : Sam Smith_

_Too Much : Tora_

_Alps : Novo Amor, Ed Tullett_

_Somebody Else : The 1975_

_Is It Too Late for Me : Beowulf_

_listen before I go : Billie Eilish_

* * *

It wasn't their first time descending the ragged cobblestone to enter the damp dungeons below Malfoy Manor. In fact, it was Theo's fifteenth time and Blaise's nineteenth. They both knew the path very well, so well, their stealthy movements made no sound, making the two prisoners not only unaware of their presence, but equally as unprepared for the metal cage door to slowly swing open.

It was a tall, boney man who staggered out first, half crawling, half-limping. Blaise and Theo both knew the man to be Garrick Ollivander, the wand-maker, his thin grey hair was covering his long face, his nails covered in blood.

"W-who— Whose there?" The old man croaked out before falling to his knees.

Theo lifted both he and Blaises disillusionment charm taking a stride over to the man helping him sit up, then took a step back smiling down at him.

"We're your knights and shining armor, mate— come to free you from your imprisonment and—"

"Theo—" Blaise squinted his eyes at him as he struggled to wrap his arm around the small dainty unconscious witch, her long blonde hair spattered with dirt and dried blood. "Maybe save your speech 'til after we've set then free, yea?"

Theo huffed in frustration and moved to help Ollivander, who was slowly loosing consciousness, mumbling as he went, "Just once— one time— that's all I bloody ask for— but as always— moment ruined— no magnificent speech today gents— perhaps, the _next time_ we frame Aunty Psycho for letting the prisoners get away..."

He stopped grumbling, shifting the old man's arm around his shoulders, steading him and nodded at Blaise.

"Yes, well, ready then?"

"Where are you taking us?" Ollivander croaked out, his hands trembling slightly. Theo grimaced, seeing three of his fingers were missing.

"Blaise…" Luna's airy voice turned their attention to her small smile as she lifted her head slowly to look at each of them, her eye lids heavy. "Theodore. You've come to visit together. How very nice…"

Theo couldn't help but offer her a small smile. The sight of her still breathing settling his racing heartbeat, "We're here to bust you out Looney."

"Lovely timing… Mr. Ollivander was just telling me how tired he felt. It would have been sad to have watched him die."

"No one's dying, Lovegood. Are you alright to stand?" Blaise asked, leaning her weight up as she nodded. She slowly tilted her head up to the ceiling.

"If your intentions were to leave without being seen we should go now. I think someone's coming."

There was a small sound coming from the top of the stairs, causing Theo to react quickly, reaching to grab ahold of Blaise and Luna, with his arm still wrapped firmly around the old man. He reached summoned the portkey from his pocket and the moment the cloth touched his fingertips they were transported away from the dungeons and whomever the descending witch or wizard was coming to join them.

* * *

"Leave it to Theo to send us to this completely random and miserably dreadful place with practically no explanation," Pansy grumbled, lifting her black boot from the mud with utter disgust clear across her features. "Ugh— I'm going to murder him. These are brand new."

Daphne stifled a smirk, reaching for Pansy's hand, lacing her fingers with hers. The moment Pansy glanced up to see Daphne smiling at her, her shoulders relaxed, inhaling deeply as she glanced around anxiously and then settled her gaze on Daphne's, whose hadn't left Pansy's once. Pansy's thoughts immediately drifted to what the girl before her could be thinking, causing a dread to form in the pit of her stomach the size of a bludger.

"What did Theo tell you the reason for leaving Hogwarts so quickly and coming here was again?"

"Something about Draco being in trouble and needing our help… said we shouldn't plan on returning to Hogwarts." Pansy said. "He and Blaise were in such a hurry that was all that I pieced together. They gave me this portkey, told me to grab you, said they'd come for us when they were done."

"Done with what?"

"I haven't got a clue—" Pansy shook her head. "Though, now that I think of it… last I spoke to Draco he was acting a bit strange—"

"Strange how?"

Pansy crunched her nose. "Well, he was extremely jumpy, paranoid almost and… he smelled different— like flowers— mixed with a bit of… cinnamon as well."

"Flowers and cinnamon?" Daphne repeated with a grin. "Hm, yes. Perhaps our Slytherin Prince has found a fondness for baking… I suppose that could be considered strange— potentially _very _ dangerous— "

Pansy rolled her eyes, taking a step back to pace in front of her. "I think he's planning something or hiding something— possibly both."

Daphne considered her words for a moment as she watched Pansy pace in front of her. Both girls were still in their Hogwarts uniform, luckily both wearing boots as the field they were currently in was an incredibly disastrous swampland. Then Daphne slowly took a step forward blocking Pansy's path, gripping her arm, her expression turning serious.

"What if this is it... what if he's finally running and he wants us to go with him? Makes sense, timing wise, dont you think? If Theo and Blaise told him about what Greyback's planning then what better time to slip through the cracks then when the Dark Lord will be most distracted?"

"No." Pansy shook her head, crossing her arms. "Not without his mother— He wouldn't."

"Unless something happened to give him no other choice. Think about it— he's been occupied with more than just missions from the Dark Lord. The night he helped Theo and Blaise with my first transformation I could sense it, too. He was extremely tense and his focus was all over the place. When I asked him what was wrong he just told me he was worried about me, which— granted was probably true, but it felt like there was something else he wasn't telling me."

Pansy was quiet for several moments.

"About that night…" She started, keeping her eyes on her boots, "there's something I haven't told you—"

"I know." Daphne said, causing Pansy's head to snap up, eyes wide with confusion. A small grin forming on Daphne's face as she shrugged, "I already know. I smelt him on you that night when you came back to check on me. You don't have to explain anything. I was—" Daphne glanced away, her grin faltering slightly, "—I was horrible to you at first. I understand why you went to him… he's always been there for you and believe it or not, I know you better than you know yourself. You're predictably reckless when you've been hurt. So, you don't have to apologize or say whatever it is you were about to say, because I understand…"

"Daph... I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before, but nothing happened. I was so frustrated with you— with him— with _everything_—" Pansy stopped talking suddenly and then narrowed her eyes, "—but if you knew, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I also know Draco." She responded with a smile and then shrugged, adding, "I know how you two work."

"We're not—"

"No, I know." Daphne said shaking her head. "I know you haven't been together in months, but I also know how the two of you worked before—" she gestured her hand in between them, "—you know, _this_."

Pansy didn't miss the uncertainty in her tone, like she was still unable to admit what was happening between them aloud. It stung. It really _fucking_ stung.

"What are you saying?" Pansy asked, crossing her arms securely over her chest, suddenly needing the extra comfort.

Daphne inhaled and exhaled slowly before looking up at her.

"Pansy, I know you used him when you needed to forget and I know Draco felt guilty enough to let you… You and Draco are both so similarly destructive and you don't even realize it…" a small laugh escaped her as she shook her head, "…you both think you're so messed up, so broken that you've convinced yourselves that you aren't deserving of love— and knowing this about one another, each settled for distracting one another because you both knew neither of you would ever ask for more— because how can one broken person fix another? It was safe, in a sense, what you two did for one another… unhealthy, _definitely_, but a form of comfort you both needed considering the hell you both ended up growing up in… but the reason I didn't say anything—"

Daphne laced both hands in Pansy's, stepping closer to make her meet her gaze.

"—both of you are so used to messing things up when people get too close… I wasn't going to make it that easy for you to walk away. Not when I know that you both deserve more than that—" she brought their hands to her lips pressing a gentle kiss to them and smiled at Pansy, whose eyes were brimming with tears, "—especially you."

"Daphne…" Pansy's voice sounded fo fragile as she leaned her head down, reaching her arms around Daphne's waist. "You stupidly wonderful— incredibly beautiful witch…"

"Excuse me?" Daphne asked, pulling back slightly caught of guard. Pansy grinned.

"First. Don't psychoanalyze me like that, it makes me feel simple, plain even, and you know I pride myself on being a very mysterious and complex witch— Secondly…" Pansy reached her fingers up to push back a piece of hair falling into Daphne's face and tucking it behind her ear, keeping her fingers wrapped at the nape of her neck, "…not even the Dark Lord himself would be able to convince me to walk away from you."

Daphne smirked up at her, pushing up on her tippy-toes, placing her hands on Pansy's waist for support, but before her lips found Pansy's she felt the witch pull back.

Pansy's face grew serious, her grip around her tightened. "But I want— I _need_ you to know… because of you I don't want to be distracted anymore…"

"I know." Daphne closed the small space between them then, melting into Pansy's touch, the warmth of her lips and soft skin against hers, wondering why she spent so much time fighting it before.

Pansy placed both her hands on either side of Daphne's face, feeling a warmth spark in her chest that had never fully been lit before with any other. She used to think something was wrong with her, like Daphne said she thought she _was_ broken, because she never felt this way with anyone else, not even Draco.

She was grateful Draco was there for her, but she knew he felt the same as her; it was never warmth and intense longing with him— it was only ever a short interlude from the cold, bitter numbness they both resided in… but as soon as it was over, they were left in the depths of it again, wading through the waters together, but separate— holding one another, but never tight enough to not let go…

Pansy swallowed nervously, placing her forehead to Daphne's.

"You're certain this is what you want? There may be no going back after this. Your family—"

"My sister is safe in America and out of harms way." Daphne said curtly, placing one hand over Pansy's bringing it down and squeezing it tightly. "As for my parents…" She dropped her gaze then to focus her attention on her thumb gently trailing over Pany's skin. "They would disown me the moment they knew."

Pansy shut her eyes then, knowing the words were true just as much as she knew it was her fault; not only Daphne being turned, but also for whatever was happening between them. Pureblood women married men and had children— they did not become werewolves and fall in for another woman. Pansy knew her own family already thought less of her for what Greyback did to her, but they still thought her linked to the Malfoy's through Draco… she frowned knowing how difficult she made Daphne's life, and no matter how much she was grateful that they were figuring things out together, she hated that it took these circumstances for them to discover their true feelings—

"Hey—" Daphne lifted her hand to Pansy's cheek, forcing her to settle her attention on her as she smiled up at her. "Don't do this again. I don't blame you Pans. I don't. And to answer your question… Yes, I am certain this is what I want. I trust you… _I'm_ _with_ _you_."

Pansy felt the rope around her chest loosen with those three words, sighing as she leaned her forehead down to rest upon Daphne's, then tilting her chin down to touch her lips to hers—

"Looks like we arrived just in time for the show!"

Pansy groaned to the sky as Theo's voice interrupted what was her and Daphne's, more or less, third kiss.

"It's so wonderful to see you too Pansy! I know you missed me." Theo wrapped his arm around her, pulling her away from Daphne, and placing a loud, sloppy kiss on her cheek. Pansy shoved him away immediately and then jumped back as an odd groan came from somewhere to Theo's left.

"Ugh— Theo! Who is that wrinkled disaster hanging onto you?"

Daphne's eyes widened upon inspecting the old man, leaning in to confirm her suspicion.

"Nott! What in the bloody hell are you doing with Garrick Ollivander?"

"Hey— we should really hurry in— I haven't gotten a signal back from Draco since last night." Blaise called from behind them.

"Daph— I think I may have been secretly given a hallucinogen potion— or perhaps I've fallen extremely ill…"

"No, I see it too." Daphne said, staring at Blaise as he trudged through the swampy grass with Luna Lovegood in his arms, her small hands clasped around his neck.

"Oh, Hello Pansy. Hello Daphne."

"She's real. So is he." Blaise nodded up to where Theo was waiting on them with Ollivander slumping halfway in the mud, clearly not entirely conscious. "And as much as I'm sure you would like an explanation—"

"You think?!" Pansy shouted.

"—I think the news would be better received once we've all gotten inside, yea?"

"Inside where? We're in the middle of a bloody swamp Zabini!" Pansy accused.

"Um, Pans—" Daphne said, moving towards her and turning her shoulders around to see where Theo was walking. In front of them was a large abandoned Manor house that was definitely not there before. The walls were covered in roots and rotting vegetation and the excessive amount of windows appeared broken and shutters falling from their hinges. Pansy scrunched her face in discuss.

"It's absolutely hideous." She called after Theo, "You can't expect me to go in there!"

"Suite yourself." Blaise said, moving past them, following after Theo.

"Come on Pans—" Theo bellowed over his shoulder, "—hasn't anyone every told you its what's on the inside that counts?"

"I've changed my mind. Draco can fiend for himself. Let's go back to Hogwarts where there is food and beds that aren't covered in cobwebs and Merlin knows what else…" Pansy said, turning to walk away but unable to do so as Daphne had firmly gripped her hand and was now pulling her behind her towards the Manor. "If I get infested with some heinous creature Nott, I swear—"

"You shouldn't have anything to worry about Pansy…" Luna said, her blonde hair cascading over Blaise's shoulder as she popped her head up to speak to the other two witches,"… there's most likely only Billywig's in this region of Scotland, a swarm of them migrated from Australia almost a decade ago… not that you'd be able to see them until they stung you, but even so, a sting from one would only cause you to hover above the ground for a few moments…"

Luna tilted her head to the side seeming to consider her words, oblivious to the two witches watching her with mixed expressions of amused confusion from Daphne, and one of annoyance from Pansy.

"…unless you're allergic, then that would make matters much worse… have you been tested for Billywig allergies?"

"Um, no." Pansy replied, blinking impatiently, as Luna turned her gaze up to the sky.

"It shouldn't matter much for either of you. If I recall correctly, they tend to avoid werewolves…"

Pansy narrowed her eyes at the girl bouncing in Blaise's arms as he trampled through the mud.

"How did you—"

"I've learned it's best not knowing how it is she knows things…" Blaise answered for her and then slowly set her down on the large stone platform, just before the double black oak doors.

"Where are we?" Daphne asked Theo as he shoved the doors open.

"Home… for the time being, otherwise known as Nott's Safe House. Draco thought it could be necessary to have a place to hide out in case—"

The heavy doors swung open, a loud crack sounded, echoing through the round foyer.

"Opps." Theo said, "I'll fix that. Here take him."

Pansy jumped out of the way as Theo handed Ollivander over to her, causing the old man to wobble past her and into Daphne's arms. The blonde haired witch hardly managed to stay on both feet, but eventually righted the old man, sending a quick glare in Pansy's direction.

"Thanks Pans."

"You have got a wand darling, levitate the old hag." She replied, and did just that. Sending Ollivander deeper into the Manor and placing him on one of the sofa's near the entrance.

"Where's Draco?" Blaise asked, coming back from somewhere deeper within the Manor. He glanced into the large common room, but saw nothing hinting anyone had been there save from the fireplace and its lingering embers.

Theo finished fixing whatever it was he broke and turned to him shrugging. Daphne saw something in Theo's pocket move and then a second later it was completely still.

"Probably shagging Granger in one of the guest rooms."

"Nott, that is a horrible joke—" Pansy said as Daphne gawked at him adding, "Hermione Granger?"

"Hermione's alive?" Luna asked brightly as she tilted a glass of water to Ollivander lips.

"Wait, was she supposed to be dead?" Daphne asked.

"Well, I thought I heard her screaming while I was in the dungeons and then—"

"Oh, Tell me he didn't —" Pansy growled, placing her hands firmly on her hips turning to Theo and Blaise. "Tell me he didn't… Draco is such an idiot—"

"What are you all talking about?" Daphne asked watching Pansy cover her face and continued mumbling something like, '_does he want to die? He must— he must want to die— practically asking for the Dark Lord to kill him— bloody Granger— he is such an idiot— fucking cinnamon…_'

Theo stepped forward, "Perhaps story time can wait until Draco graces us with his presence—"

"Theodore. Explain. Now." Pansy demanded.

He sighed, running his hand down his face, glancing at Blaise who just shrugged.

"You were wanting your moment, mate." Blaise smirked, "Floors all yours…"

"Bollocks…" Theo muttered to himself and then strode into the large common area. "Yes, fine then. Follow me. Take your seats and hold on tight. It's going to be a very strange and disturbing retelling of events…"

* * *

Draco woke slowly, still lingering in the fog of haziness that he had not experienced in some time; the haziness one would get after a long night of sleeping peacefully, it was not something he had the pleasure of enduring for almost two years now.

As soon as he heart rate settled in his chest, he realized that he had, in fact, slept for several hours and he could feel how much it was already effecting his magic. He felt stronger, or at least not as much of a fragile mess as he had last night.

There was a vibrating sensation deep within his chest upon waking and glancing up to see a brown mess of curly hair spread out in all directions and long eyelashes fanned out over rosy cheeks. The sensation only intensified as he lifted his fingers to gently push away one of her curls from covering Hermione's face, intentionally avoiding touching her skin as to not wake her. He only watched her for a moment before remembering himself and how unsettled she would be to wake to him watching her.

Before he moved another thought crossed his mind then, that maybe he didn't have to get up yet… deciding instead to indulge his selfish need to continue holding her, knowing there was a very high possibility she would regret kissing him and allowing him to fall asleep with her.

He was dreading the moment she would wake and force them to move or speak, so until then he allowed himself to inch as close as he could without waking her; shifting his leg forward so his knee delicately draped over hers, grazing his fingers over her hip and the small of her back where her shirt shifted allowing him access to her skin, and tilting his nose up from where his cheek lay to bury it in the crook of her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent that was so perfectly her he would recognize it anywhere; very inch closer he could steal to remain in the strange haze of her warmth that convinced him he deserved this, that he deserved her; but then she woke and the warmth he had been so enjoying shifted, reminding him that he didn't—

_She will never be yours, Draco._

He shut his eyes tighter, easily shoving that heavy vine away.

"Draco…" she whispered, clearly uncertain if he was awake or not.

After a beat he inwardly groaned and pretended she had woken him up. He didn't miss the way she shifted away from him, taking her warmth with her. He withdrew his arm from around her waist and sat up clearing his throat.

"I'm sorry if I woke you—" She said quickly, glancing down at the small space between them now. She looked up at him and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes as she tried not to look straight at him. He couldn't decide if she was nervous or upset with herself for kissing him. "I, um— how did you sleep?"

"Surprisingly well… I don't remember ever sleeping that good, actually." He said with a small smile and then immediately removing it, trying not convey exactly how much he enjoyed it.

"Good." She said, offering a shy smile back. "That's good…"

A silence stretched between them and Draco shifted until his back was against the headboard next to her. He frowned, into the large room that was fully lit now. He hated how quickly his mind begin to replay the scene of them from the night before…

The softness of her lips as he grazed his fingers over them, exploring them, giving her time to reject him if she wanted to.

Her nails getting lost in his hair, as her lips slowly mirrored the pressure of his; accepting his touch, making him go insane with the need to make her know how much it meant to him.

Then the gentle pressure of her hands on his chest pushing him away… every piece of his desire swelling until that moment, then began crumbling, the sharp edges that remained slicing as they settled within his chest— that feeling began to resurface the longer the silence stretched between them.

"Look— um, about last night..." She started to say, her gaze staring into her lap where her hands were fumbling with the sleeve of her shirt. "… we were both sort of— um, tired and—

_Tell me, Draco, have you considered what happens when you free Miss Granger and she is no longer your prisoner…_

_The moment Miss Granger is free to do as she pleases she will leave you behind and return to Potter without a second thought…_

_Believing yourself worthy of deserving the girl will only amount to your immense agony…_

He felt every word clawing its way to the surface, covered in thorns and leaving a trail of fresh blood in their path, so even when he shoved them back into place a crimson stain remained…

"—well, if you didn't mean it, if you regret it then I understand if you don't want to—"

Draco turned immediately to look at her, uncertain if he was hearing her correctly.

"What? No. I don't—" he heard how strange his own voice sounded and he quickly cleared his throat, "Hermione…"

She slowly lifted her eyes to his, searching his face with a vulnerability she often wore on her features. Although he thought it a foolish characteristic, to so openly reveal oneself to another, he admired her for it all the same.

He lowered his chin and emphasized each word, "I regret almost everything I've ever done to you, but I do not regret kissing you."

He couldn't help but smirk at the sight of her tucking her lip behind her tooth, hiding her smile, though the rise of pink to her cheeks gave her away.

"Well, that's good," she said glancing down at her hands, then back to him, "neither do I."

His shoulders seemed to sag in relief from her words and he nodded, grinning as he turned to glance across the room, hoping he didn't look like as much of a complete idiot as he felt.

She cleared her throat, "I suppose, um, if your feeling up for it—"

"Round two?" He tempted, raising a brow and smirking over at her.

"No." She laughed, her blush deepening as she shook her head, then turned to face him attempting to look serious. "I was going to suggest we talk about what happened before you arrived last night."

"Ah."

"Though, that's not to say I'm apposed— to, um, round two—" she glanced over at him, and shrugged, "—another time."

"Careful Granger," he leaned his shoulder into hers lowering his voice, "I may just take you up on that."

She smiled, blushing into her lap as he leaned away.

"So…" He inhaled, sensing the growing desire inside his chest swelling the longer he looked at her. He needed to stop looking at her mouth.

The overbearing need to know why his mother sought Hermione out began to resurface in his mind.

"My mother visited you—I must admit, I'm beyond terrified to hear why…"

"You're a Death-Eater who quiet literally meets with You-Know-Who on a weekly basis with the possibility of imminent death with every breath you take—" she said, though there was a hint of amusement in her tone, "—and your frightened of your mother and I having a conversation?"

"Yes." He said, his mouth forming a thin line. "Exactly that."

She let out a small laugh, shaking her head and nervously tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"It was nothing really—" She began, but then paused to consider what to say. "She was worried about you… She brought me something more practical to change in to and she wanted to warn me about the curse— mostly informing me how painful it was going to be to remove it…"

Draco watched her as she avoiding looking him in the eyes. Her hands were fidgeting more than usual and her breathing tight. He knew they hadn't spent enough time around one another to read such things, but he could tell she was a terrible liar.

"So she risked coming here to give you clothes and to tell you how much pain you have to look forward to?"

"Well, yes… and that she was worried about you, which I already mentioned—"

"Granger…"

She turned to look at him inhaling nervously and then exhaling as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well, she may have also mentioned something about your using Occlumency— how she taught you… she mentioned your drawings and the journals— she wanted to know if I noticed anything effecting your abilities."

Draco frowned. He wondered if Snape had been the one to tell her, but that didn't answer why his mother would need to speak to Hermione. If she was worried she could have just as easily asked him in the hundred times he'd seen her in the last few weeks.

"And…"

"And I told her what I've seen— you fainting and how you haven't gotten much sleep… She was worried about you. I thought she may be able to make sense of it—"

"Did she?"

"No. She only confirmed what I already knew." She said quickly— too quickly.

His mother was far too strategic and meticulous to risk looking for Hermione to simply have a chat about his wellbeing. His mother's visit must have been necessary or she wouldn't have been so careless. Slowly, Draco eyed Hermione, not really wanting to accuse her of lying, but not certain he had another choice.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Draco, I— I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say— would you like me to try and repeat every word we shared? Do you want to sift through my memory, invade my mind— will that satisfy you?"

"Yes. Yes it would—"

"I wasn't being serious."

"Well, why not—"

"Fine, right after you invade my privacy— you can show me what happened with You-Know-Who—"

"It's not the same... I can't— there's certain things you shouldn't see." He gritted out, not enjoying the feeling of that memory crawling forward.

"Yes, well, same to you."

He sighed, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. Although he felt rested he was struggling to shield himself from hiding his emotions, he could hardly suppress them and each time he tried it felt like some force within his chest was yanking them forward, hoping to grasp them forever.

"Draco…"

He wasn't sure what made her decide to start calling him by his first name, but he almost wish she wouldn't— the effect it had on him was far too difficult to ignore; like whatever she said after that he had no choice but to accept…

He rolled his head slightly to look at her. He noticed it again, the vulnerability in her eyes and it made him want to reach out to her. A beat longer he was surprised to find she had thought the same, her fingers gently spread across his palm until her fingers laced with his. He kept his gaze on the side of her face as she stared at their joined hands.

"Your mother came to me because I think she know's your allegiance is shifting. I think she wanted to make sure that someone would protect you and she trusts—"

Draco sat up straighter, his brow pulled together lost in a sudden thought, turning to face her. "Wait— What did you say?"

"That if you join the Order, your mother trusts me to keep you safe—"

"No. No." He shut his eyes, trying to replay her words in his head, finding where they fit. "Before— you said… she know's my allegiance is shifting—"

He snapped his eyes opened to see her blinking uncertainly at him.

"Draco, I don't—"

"After I met with the Dark Lord, he gave me another task. He sent me to the Forbidden Forrest to recruit centaurs to help against Greyback—"

"He sent you _alone_ into the Forbidden Forrest to recruit _centaurs_?! Draco have you any idea how much danger you were in— you could have been killed— were you hurt— why didn't you tell me—"

"Yes, of course I knew. I was increasingly aware how much danger I was in the entire bloody time— I'm certain the Dark Lord meant it as a message or a warning… I don't think he intended for me to succeed."

"Wait… You convinced them to join You-Know-Who?" She asked, her voice clearly shaking at the realization that he had just strengthened the person she was determined to see destroyed. Her fingers slowly released from his.

He felt it again. The same look radiating in her eyes that Theo's held only the day before— _betrayal_.

"I had no choice." He gritted out. "Look— the point is while I was there they recited a prophecy… something about allegiances being shifted— and then before I left Snape told me to ask you—"

"Wait, hold on— Where does professor Snape fit into all of this? He knows I'm alive?— I thought you were alone."

"I was and he does know you're still alive— he showed up towards the end— after the centaurs agreed to join us—"

"Ok." She nodded, then shifted herself to her knees, facing him. "Start at the beginning. Right after you left to meet You-Know-Who…"

* * *

"And scene." Theo said, breathing heavily. He had just reenacted a short play of sorts to convey the happenings that led Hermione Granger to be alive and protected by Draco Malfoy, it consisted of fairly few lines and even far less accuracy, in Blaise's opinion.

Blaise ran his hand down his face, sighing as he glanced around the large room. Daphne sat next to him with narrowed eyes in Theo's direction, her expression clearly as confused as Pansy's, who was blinking with her head tilted… an expression, Blaise noted inwardly, that he often wore whenever Theo spoke. On his other side sat Luna who was clapping— fucking clapping. Ollivander had hardly done much more than snore to ensure he was still awake, alive… whichever.

"That was a wonderful story Theodore."

Theo bowed, winking at the blonde witch as he stood to his full height.

"Well, any questions…" Theo smirked arrogantly as he glanced at his small audience.

"What—" Pansy started.

"—the actual fuck—" Daphne added.

"—just happened?" Both witches continued together.

"Yes. It appears my theatrics were a bit out of reach for you unacquainted non-thespians."

"What did you just call me?" Pansy asked, moving to her feet.

"Whoa— Whoa— big wolf, you needn't growl. I assumed this would happen…"

"You assumed _what_ would happen?" Blaise asked, "—that your overdramatic interpretation of Draco saving Granger would make entirely no sense and leave everyone five times more lost than when they walked in?"

"Indeed— hence why I have also prepared a summarized version for you of lesser minds, not you Luna— you're brilliant."

Luna blinked up at him, not responding. He wasn't entirely certain she heard him either.

Theo cleared his throat, "Yes, well, shall I begin?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, out with it already Nott." Pansy demanded, sitting back down.

"Right," he cleared his throat again, moving to the center of the room and flipping the few brown hairs back from his face. "Here goes— Once upon a time Granger was dragged into Malfoy Manor with two gits— gits, referring to Potty and Weaslebee of course— then Aunty Bella asked Draco to confirm that it was, in fact, Potter and Company, but he couldn't, or wouldn't— yet to be determined as Draco has kept his inner turmoil during that time for his own torment and personal reflective brooding purposes," Theo bowed, placing one hand on his chest before adding, "—respectively— but I would ascribe his inability to identify Pot-brain due to the fact that his face was seriously fucked up—"

"Granger hit him with a stinging jinx," Blaise explained when Daphne opened her mouth for further clarification.

Theo pointed at Blaise, as if to accept his input, "Right, stinging jinx— that Granger… clever little minx, she is…"

"Nott— the point, please." Pansy sighed impatiently.

"Yes— where was I? Oh, yes— then Aunty Psycho, true to her title, went mental over something the Snatchers found in Granger's bag— so Potter and Weasley were taken away and thrown into the dungeons— during which time Granger is being tortured for information by Aunty Bellabitch with a knife laced with Dark Magic that causes you to slowly bleed out— so now there's an incurable curse in her bloodstream that Draco somehow had already begun creating a semi-cure for, but more on that later— then as if things weren't already bizarre enough, in comes a _fucking _ _elf _— not to be ignored is the fact that this very elf was formerly owned by the Malfoy's…" Theo tilted his head back, squinting his eyes, "Derby… Delly?—"

"Dobby."

Theo smiled down at Luna, snapping, "Ah, yes. Brilliant. Thank you Lovegood. So— right, Dobby shows up and manages to help Potter and Weasley escape— So, as you can imagine, Aunty Bella's raging mad at this point, but then she's summoned away by the Dark Lord, leaving a half-dead Granger bleeding out on the drawing room floor— thinking Granger's good as gone, Draco's parents leave the mess to Draco, expecting him to just dump the body or something equally as grotesque, but he doesn't— no, instead in swoops Draco to save the day, like the bloody selfless bloke we all know him to be—" Theo paused to grimace and roll his eyes to emphasis, but quickly continuing on as he glanced at Pansy, "—knowing she's still alive and determined to keep her that way, he locks her in his room, then comes crying to me and Blaise for help since he's all buddy buddy with the Dark Lord these days— we took shifts dosing her with some miracle potion Draco concocted, eventually Granger finally came to— and um, yeah… some other stuff happened after that brought us here, but that's the bulk of it. Oh, and Blaise and I are pretty sure Draco's been trying, and failing, to convince himself he's not into Granger, but it's completely fucking obvious, as you will soon see, and Granger is too stubborn to accept it or her own desire to have him loosen that stick from her arse so..." Theo let out a sarcastic laugh, flinging his hands out, "… as you can imagine sexual tension has been at an all time _awkward_—"

Theo glanced at Blaise, "Did I miss anything?"

"No, that was pretty spot on, though I would have mentioned the bit where Granger punched you in the face when she was unconscious, and the time she slapped you—"

Theo scoffed. "Not worth mentioning, hardly felt it."

"She gave you a black eye. She was unconscious." Blaise added with a large grin spreading across his face.

"Boys." Pansy said, moving to her feet again. "Focus, hm?"

"So… Draco's been keeping her a secret all this time? What do people think happened to her?" Daphne asked.

"They think she's dead." Theo answered with a shrug.

Pansy scoffed, "Potter and Weasley just left her? I don't believe that for a second."

"I don't think they wanted to, but if they didn't leave then they'd be dead too."

"Alright, so Potter and Weasley think Granger's dead. She isn't. We're all here. So what changed?"

Blaise and Theo shared a glance.

Blaise sighed, "Draco thinks he knows how to find Potter."

"Oh, and what is it he plans to do once he finds him? Return Granger? The moment the Dark Lord realizes she's still alive and he lied Draco's good as dead."

"Which leads us to the best part of the story and why Draco wanted us to bring you here…" Theo said.

Pansy narrowed her eyes at him, scoffing, then her eyes grew wide. "You're joking…"

"Afraid not, love." Blaise answered as Pansy glanced between them.

"He wants to deflect. He wants to help Potter… doesn't he?" Daphne asked, coming to stand next to Pansy.

"Correction, he wants _us_ to deflect and help Potter—"

"It's a choice, Pans… Draco only wanted to give you a choice." Blaise said softly.

They were all silent for a few moments.

"I want to speak to him. Where is he now?" Pansy eventually asked.

"Like I said— probably shagging in a guest room." Theo answered.

"I don't think they're shagging." Luna offered, her head tilted to one side, "Sounds a bit like their just talking."

Blaise blinked several times before asking her, "You can hear them?"

Luna nodded, "Only its much like a whisper. I can usually sense when people are present even if they can't."

"What does that even mean?" Pansy asked.

"Best to not question it." Theo said, patting Pansy's arm and then abruptly stopping as she shot him a look. "And on that note… I'm going to go check on the in-denial-lovebirds."

"Nott— try and not be so creepy about it—" Pansy arched a brow at him, "—you know, like the way you hover outside Daphne's door when we're—"

"I'm sorry— are we just going to ignore the absurdity that Draco and Granger are doing anything besides trying to kill one another?" Daphne asked, eyeing Pansy a bit closely, uncertain as to why the witch seemed so unfazed by this news.

"Oh… just you wait." Theo smirked, shooting her a wink before he started towards the stairs.

"I think I'm going to be sick. This is far too much information to process at once." Daphne said moving to sit down again.

"If you'd like I could show you how to do a headstand." Luna offered brightly.

Pansy shook her head, "Do you ever listen to yourself when you speak?"

"Oh, I've never tried to before… Why? Do you find it helpful?"

"I give up." Pansy shot to her feet. "Blaise please show me where Theo keeps his stash of firewhisky!"

"Gladly…" Blaise muttered, following behind her to the kitchens.

Daphne sat there glancing around the large room. She saw Ollivander tucked under a blanket, snoring. She shifted as she felt Luna starring at her. She offered the odd girl a small smile, uncertain what to say.

"Um, you think he's going to be alright?"

Luna glanced over at Ollivander.

"I hope so."

Daphne nodded.

"—a-and what about you? How are you feeling?"

"Better. I'm glad to be out of the dungeons."

Daphne frowned, "I'm sorry you were put there."

"Well, it certainly gave me more than enough time alone. If anything I understand the voices in my head much better than I did before. So, all in all, there was something beneficial that came from my experience as a prisoner, though I would like to not be one again any time soon."

Daphne just nodded. "Right…"

Luna continued staring at her.

"I'm going to go help Pansy with the firewhisky."

"Does she know you love her?"

Daphne blinked several times. "I'm sorry?"

Luna tilted her head, considering something as Daphne stood speechless watching her.

"I had a thought while I was in the dungeons— I'm not sure which voice it was that told me this, but it said that the next time I sensed someone in love that I should acknowledge it for them, because if I didn't they would be too afraid to, and during times like these it's better to have said it aloud so the other person will know in case either of you never get the chance to…" Luna then brought her dreamy gaze to the other witch, "—don't you agree?"

"I, um…" Daphne cleared her throat, "…yes, I-I suppose so."

Luna nodded, moving to her feet. She smiled at Daphne and inclined her head towards her.

"You should tell her. She's uncertain, but I think you're certain enough for the both of you."

Daphne starred at her for a moment until eventually she felt a smile tug on the corner of her lips. Before she could thank the girl she was turning away, moving to check on Ollivander.

Daphne smiled to herself. She moved to the kitchen and leaned against the door frame. She watched Pansy tilt a glass of firewhisky to her mouth and then extend it to Blaise again to fill it up. She was rolling her eyes and laughing at something Blaise said, her short black hair messier than usual and her cheeks tinted with a blush from the alcohol. Pansy turned to see Daphne watching her and held her stare.

"Well, come join us— I have a feeling we'll all need to be perfectly inebriated whenever the Slytherin Prince and Gryffindor's Princess saunter down those stairs…"

She examined Pansy's side profile for a moment longer, still uncertain how the witch seemed so comfortable with saying that statement. It wasn't that she expected her to be jealous, for she knew Pansy and Draco's relationship was simply a search for feeling more than fear, rather than actual feelings; but Daphne thought for certain Pansy had true feelings of hated towards the curly-haired witch they all talked foul of more than once. Pushing that thought aside, Daphne moved to her side, slipping her hand around her waist, taking a glass Blaise extended to her.

"What shall we toast then?" Blaise asked, smirking at them from behind his glass.

In the split moment it took for her to think of something she let herself imagine what it would mean for her and Pansy to join Draco in helping Potter… she imagined them fighting for something, together, side by side, something that they had never truly allowed themselves to consider— a future; a future with actual possibilities and hope and _love_…

She wondered if that was something Draco was only awarded to consider once he saved Hermione Granger— it was an amusing thought, but it made her mind ignite with a million beautiful possibilities all the same.

She glanced over at Pansy knowing she would fight like hell to make her see how much more there was for them and that this was only the beginning…

_I think you're certain enough for the both of you…_

Daphne lifted her glass, "To finding love where you least expect it—"

Pansy turned, her brow twitching as her eyes flicked frantically across Daphne's face, wondering if she heard her correctly._ Love…_

"Unexpected indeed…" Blaise repeated softly, more to himself, clicking his glass to theirs before stepping away to give them privacy.

He stopped suddenly as he noticed Theo's coat move. It was hanging on the back of one of the wingback chairs and slowly shifting by itself until it fell to the floor. Blaise flinched as Luna appeared out of nowhere to stand next to him.

"It's been whispering too." She said calmly, watching something within the coat pocket move again.

"That would be the Goblins." Blaise said moving to reach his hand into the pocket and pulling out a shrunk down briefcase.

"Seems a peculiar place to keep Goblin." Luna observed.

"Just out of curiosity…" Blaise asked, "…is there an appropriate place one should keep a Goblin in your opinion?"

"Perhaps, a lively nightclub I would suspect. They tend to be talented musicians." Luna said with a smile.

"Right…" Blaise said, and shoved the miniature briefcase into his own pocket, not realizing that his hand accidentally brushed against the lock causing the briefcase to expand to its normal size and pop open, "Shit. Shit Shit. Did not mean to do that!" Reaching for his wand, he pulled Luna behind him, yelling over his shoulder towards the stairs. "THEO! DRACO! You better get down here!"

Luna peered over Blaise's shoulder, eyeing what appeared to be three Goblins of all sizes. The first, rather pointy and unpleasant in appearance, while the middle was round and portly, one of its suspenders broken and unable to clasp over its large stomach, and the third looked rather nervous and timid as it blinked up at them.

"Hello sirs." Luna said brightly leaning down to extend her hand. "My name is Luna Lovegood. Nice to meet you."

* * *

Hermione was increasingly aware of how much she was keeping from Draco the longer he explained what happened to him after he left her with Theo and Blaise— the vial and ring shoved into her back pocket served as a blatant reminder of just that.

She was still sorting out what to make of Narcissa's visit and all that the woman revealed.

On the one hand if she told Draco that his own magic was the reason his Occlumency was failing then he may be able figure out how to fix it, but in doing so she would also have to tell him his magic is interceding because of his feelings for her… and were either of them in any position to consider what that meant?

Their life expectancy is as fragile now as it was before he saved her, before she got to see this other beautifully scarred side of Draco Malfoy— together or apart, this was still war, and what feelings can truly be justified when fear is laced within its foundation…

Not to mention they kissed.

They kissed and she wondered if that shifted something for him or his magic. She knew it shifted something for her, though it felt wrong to admit it. It felt selfish to have felt something so precious, so rare while everything seemed to be burning around them… and if she allowed them to consider whatever was forming between them then he would be forced to choose, protecting himself and his secrets or abandon everything he has fought so hard to keep safe, for her—

It all seemed exceedingly difficult to sort through what to do with the information as he started speaking, especially noticing the pained expression on his face as he recited the experience to her. She wondered if it was selfish of her to not want to disrupt how open he was being with her, knowing the moment she let him know what his mother revealed to her that everything would change...

"It was different to any other time he's summoned me," he began, keeping his eyes across the room, "he very rarely seeks individual meetings, he prefers an audience to prove his authority— that's when I suspected Snape may have turned on me— told him that I saved you… but he hadn't..."

"I don't know why, but the Dark Lord seemed intent on breaking me— whenever he tried sorting through my mind it felt more intentional to weaken me instead of actually finding anything; it seemed calculated… like he was timing each strike—

"He's very talented with making you believe you've succeeding in keeping him out, and then he manages to slip into your mind without you even realizing it—"

She noticed his jaw clench then as if he was forcing the next sentence out.

"I was so weak already and he was so close to making me reveal that I was keeping you hidden that I didn't have a choice but to show him something, hoping to buy more time…"

Hermione placed her fingers over the back of his hand where it lay on his thigh, and curled her fingers around his, encouraging him to continue.

"He found the memory of Blaise telling me about Greyback's plans to move on May 7th, using the new recruits to move against him. I was able to convince him that I intended to warn him when I had conformation."

"Do you think he saw something else? Do you think that's why he decided to send you on a suicide mission?"

He lifted his gaze to hers and she watched something flash behind his eyes. He lifted his other hand to run through his hair. He shook his head then letting out a soft breath that felt like a confession.

"No. I'm certain he didn't see anything else."

"How can you be certain?"

"Because I…" he glanced away from her and shut his eyes tight, "…this is going to sound fucking insane—"

"I'm very familiar with the sort…" she tried to keep the mood light, adding with a small smile. "Try me."

He tilted his head up to look at her through some of the falling pieces of hair, and spoke slowly as if he was trying to figure out the truth of what he was saying as he spoke.

"I think something was protecting me. There was this light stream of magic that appeared from the end of his wand that only I could see— it drifted into my skin— I could feel it seeping in and flow through my veins— after that it was like my mind was impenetrable…"

"A light stream of magic that only you could see?" She repeated and he immediately grimaced.

"I told you it would sound insane—"

"No, I'm just trying to understand." She quickly assured him, and then seemed to get lost in thought as she spoke her thoughts aloud. "So, you were clearly unable to protect yourself from him invading your mind anymore, but then you felt this magic protecting you, strengthening your Occlumency walls I would assume…" she glanced up at him, "Was this your first time experiencing something like this?"

"Um, no… actually—" he reached his hand to the back of his neck, "— twice before."

"Twice?"

"Yes, um…" he shifted one leg over the other and cleared his throat, "… while visiting Dumbledore's tomb and again at Hogwarts in Snape's office."

"Ok..." she nibbled at her bottom lip, considering which bits of information connected the millions of dots floating around in her mind, "What were you doing each of those times? Were you in danger?"

"No. I was accompanying the Dark Lord— retrieving something—" he glanced away from her, "—a wand, from Dumbledore's tomb."

Hermione only nodded, trying to not sink under the weight of this information to focus on their current conversation.

"And the second time…?"

"I was at Hogwarts and it guided me to a cabinet within the headmasters office—" he moved from the bed and bent down to reach into his coat from the the floor. When he stood back up Hermione saw a small black box in his hand. "— it led me to this."

"What's inside?"

He shrugged, "Haven't opened it— wasn't sure if I should…" He extended it to her and she took it from him. She glanced up as he moved to sit on the bed again, and asked, "May I?"

He nodded.

There was a small silver magnetic clasp near the bottom and she slowly lifted it. Within the small box was a golden sphere. As she leaned in closer to inspect it, her fingers grazing the surface— the gold sphere fluttered to life, lifting from its spot within the box, tiny golden wings allowing it to hover before her. Draco moved closer to examine it, sitting directly next to her.

"It's a Snitch." He said plainly, reaching towards it and it immediately reacted to him, floating to lay in his hand, the wings retracting as he leaned closer to examine it.

The memory of receiving a withered children's book flashed to the front of her mind, "How peculiar…"

He glanced up, "Should I know what this is supposed to mean? A sign that I shouldn't have quit quidditch six year, perhaps?"

She glanced down at the small golden snitch, tilting her head, "Dumbledore left Harry, Ron and I each something in his will. He gave me a book, Ron a deluminator, and he left Harry the first Snitch he ever caught…" She glance up at Draco who was regarding her closely. "You said the magic appeared at Dumbledore's tomb and again in his office?"

Draco nodded.

"It has to be Dumbledore's doing then, doesn't it? Perhaps he left you this as well?"

Draco shook his head, grimacing, "Seems unlikely, besides… that doesn't explain why the light magic appeared with the Dark Lord—"

"Of course it does!" Hermione said excitedly, her mind feeling as it usually did upon figuring out a complicated riddle. "You-Know-Who is using Dumbledore's wand. He must have charmed it somehow—"

"What makes you think he'd intend for it to protect me?" Draco said moving to stand again. It occurred to her then that he looked pale, his breathing slightly shaken. She had been so wrapped up in sorting out the meaning of what he was saying that she was oblivious to how upset he seemed to have become. "I-I tried to kill him, more than once, or did you forget that?"

She winced, seeing the unwavering guilt clouding behind his gaze.

"No—" she shook her head watching him pace, pulling at his collar and undoing his top button. "No... I didn't forget, but I know you didn't have a choice, Draco. Dumbledore knew that—"

He barked a loud laugh, running his hands through his hair. "You really have a way of twisting a fucking story, Granger—"

"I know he offered you protection Draco…"

He turned to her then, eyes sharply meeting hers, filled with confusion.

"Harry was there... He was in the Astronomy Tower the night Dumbledore was killed." Hermione said, moving to the edge of the bed and standing before him, "He said you lowered your wand…"

Draco swallowed, dropping his head to stare at the floor. She took a step towards him as a thought occurred to her.

"Maybe…" she said, lowering her voice slightly and reaching for his hands, "...Dumbledore knew you would have another chance to take him up on his offer— maybe this was his way to ensure he held up his end."

She took in his posture, shoulders slumped and chest rising and falling slowly as if his heart to slow for him to process the information. He slowly lifted his head.

"So what— now the Dark Lord can't hurt me if he's using Dumbledore's wand? Is that what you're saying?"

"I don't know." She said honestly. "It could have been just be the one time. I haven't heard of any wizard capable of limiting a wands magic— it's usually the wand that does the deciding, or at least that's what I've read… wand-lore is one of the trickier subjects to study since its entirely subjected to change with each individual wand and the witch or wizard who it choses—" She frowned and shook her head, "I'm sorry. I'm not helping, am I?"

She was surprised to see a smile tug at the corner of his lips.

"I'm certain you are... though if you're right and I'd be a fool to ignore that you almost always are— I'm still unable to process what could have possibly prompted Dumbledore to not only protect me but leave me to a bloody Snitch—" he sighed and glanced down at their still intertwined fingers, "—doesn't seem to make much sense."

"Perhaps when we find Harry he may have an idea about the Snitch… maybe they represent similar messages or once they're together reveal a code of some sort…"

Hermione felt a lightness tug in her chest as she thought of Harry, but it faded as Draco stepped away from her, releasing her hands.

"'Suppose we should get to it then, finding Potter… sooner all this can be over, right?"

There was a coldness to his tone as he spoke to her then, she could feel it creeping across her skin. He was staring at her with a perfectly crafted mask, and it made her chest throb seeing it. He was shielding his emotions again. This time, though, she knew that by doing so he was only harming himself. Before she could make a comment to try and force him to stop occluding the door handle clicked behind him, causing him to turn on his heel, shoving her behind him with his wand lifted before him.

"For fuck's sake, Theo—" he groaned and pocketed his wand, "—bloody knock, yea?"

"Is that anyway to treat a concerned best friend? You scurry off to face Lord Demon-Dick all by yourself and leave me consumed with worry— no note to let me know if you lived or perished— come to find you've been cuddled up with Granger all night, perfectly safe and sound—"

"I sent the signal last night Theo." Draco said cutting him off.

"You weren't hoping to barge in on something were you, Nott?" Hermione asked crossing her arms over her chest. She didn't miss the flash of disappointment on Theo's face as he burst in to see them standing at least five feet apart and just talking.

"Who? Me?" Theo scoffed, crossing his arms, moving to lean against the door frame, a sly smile growing on his features. "Of course not. Just worried 'bout my mate, though I suppose he was in capable, dainty womanly hands, hm?"

"My hands are not dainty—" Hermione countered, but stopped short as Theo missed the doorframe completely and fell to the floor. He glared up at Draco who was smirking down at him. Hermione glanced at Draco's wand hand moving back into his pocket.

"Hm, appears you may need similar attention Nott. Your depth perception seems a bit off… feeling alright, mate?"

"Not bad." Theo shoved himself to his feet, still smiling, seemingly unbothered as he brushed off his trousers. "Though, you just confirmed my suspicions that you and Granger were definitely fu—"

"THEO! DRACO! YOU BETTER GET DOWN HERE!"

"Was that Blaise?" Hermione asked and the next the she knew both Theo and Draco were gone. She rolled her eyes and moved quickly to the stairs, reminding herself to ask Draco for a wand.

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure what she was expecting to find upon entering the large common area, but what she found was far more peculiar than anything her imagination could have conjured. Skidding to an abrupt halt near the entrance, she watched as ropes shot from Blaise's wand and wrapped themselves firmly around the a Goblin who was darting around the room. On the ground Draco was wrestling one who was trying to escape through the Floo and Theo was in a similar position behind the sofa. If that wasn't bizarre enough for her to fathom, her eyes settled on the back of a young witch with long blonde hair standing on the coffee table as the Goblin Theo was holding reached for her and Hermione instantly felt relief flood her as she moved quickly towards the girl.

"Luna!" Hermione cried, and the moment she turned around Luna smiled brightly at her.

"Hermione." Luna stepped down from the coffee table and seemed surprised to find herself wrapped in Hermione's arms a second later. Hermione didn't care that she hesitated to hug her back. Seeing Luna felt like small victory, one step closer to Harry… she buried her face in the girls shoulder, pulling her closer.

"Oh, it's so wonderful to see you Luna." She said, realizing then that her breathing had shaken slightly and tears were brimming her eyes.

"It's lovely to see you too Hermione…" She said pulling back to smile at her, both hands on her shoulders. "I told the Nargles in the dungeons that I didn't think you were dead, but they didn't believe me. It's good to know they were wrong."

Hermione just laughed, nodding her head, not even bothering with questioning the witch. "Yes. They were greatly misled."

She glanced over Luna's shoulder to see an old man sleeping on the sofa across the room.

"Is that—"

"Garrick Ollivander—" Luna answered, "He's not doing so well— He had it worse of the two of us."

"Does he need healing potions or —"

"Blaise has already seen to his injuries, there really isn't much else to be done."

Hermione felt her heart weigh heavier in her chest as she regarded the fragile looking man, his breathing uneven and rough.

Hermione's attention was abruptly turned towards the muffled grunts of the three goblins rolling on the floor. She stepped away from Luna, remembering herself and the chaotic scene before her.

"Is this completely necessary?" She asked, "Gagging and tying them up like their some sort of criminals?"

"That's exactly what they are." Theo said simply. "These little bastards are corrupt as it gets."

"You have yet to inform me why there are three Goblins when I specifically requested one—" Draco said to him from the floor where he was panting as he saw the Goblin next to the others and then paused as he felt someone wrap their arms around his torso.

He stiffened slightly and then smirked, seeing the blur of blonde hair. He seemed to not have noticed her as he rushed to help Blaise with the rouge Goblins. A genuine smile tugged at his face and Hermione watched as he stood to accept her hug.

"Good to see you too Lovegood." He said softly.

"I told you you wouldn't abandon me. The warmpgrindles never lie." She said taking a step back from him.

Draco laughed slightly, the interaction between them causing Hermione to stare openly, uncertain what to make of them being so cordial to each other, or him to her rather.

"'Suppose you're still going to hold me to that promise then?" He asked.

"Well, I suppose the list can wait until things settle down. It appears you've still got some work to do…" His brow furrowed but he simply nodded. "After the war." She added. "We can begin then."

"I'm looking forward to it."

As Hermione watched the strange conversation Theo and Blaise had levitated the three Goblins to the sofa and were standing before them, mumbling under their breath. Draco moved to join them as Hermione moved to stand near Luna. She felt the blonde witch staring at something above her head.

"You've got them too."

Hermione frowned, reaching to pat her hair down. "I've got what—?"

"A tangled mess of warmgrindles… same colors as Draco's." Hermione's confused frown remained as Luna continued, "Their on the list, too— the one Draco started while I was in his dungeons."

"List?"

"The list of creatures I've mentioned during our conversations... He's kept track of them and made me promise to prove their existence once he got me out of the dungeons— though, i'll have to start after everything has settled. It'd be a bit dangerous to start now I would think..."

Hermione felt a sad smile tug at the corner of her lips trying to imagine Draco visiting Luna in the dungeons, attempting to distract her from the horrors of being a prisoner. She glanced to where he was standing with Blaise and Theo, the three deep in conversation seemingly over what to do with the three creatures sat before them. It was a surprisingly insightful look into the person Draco could be, she thought, hearing what Luna just told her. He couldn't physically free her, but he could give her something to hope for— a promise to look forward to... Draco had given the girl hope, probably without even realizing it.

Draco glanced over his shoulder at her and she felt her cheeks blush, hoping he hadn't caught her staring.

"You may want to be the one to negotiate, Granger— considering Theo and Blaise kidnapped them and with my terrible track record with upsetting creatures I'm certain I would only be worse."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the truth of his words as she moved to stand near him, then turned towards Theo. "Why did you bring three again?"

"Well, we tried taking just one, but my cousin said these three are a package deal— something about needing to be rid of the round one, but the other two refusing to separate from him—" Theo shrugged, "—best I could do under the circumstances."

"Right," Hermione nodded. "Well, un-gag them already. They're not likely to help if they're being treated so poorly."

"As you wish." Theo said, flicking his wrist and the three Goblins immediately began shouting explicit language at the group of witches and wizards.

Hermione's eyes widened— positive she had never heard such foul language in such a short time span, and it was then, as they each struggled with the ropes, shifting their clothing about she noticed they were covered in tattoos beneath their formalwear, white collared shirts, black trousers and suspenders

Suddenly they were silent and she saw Draco with his was raised. The Goblins mouths were still moving, but no sound filled the room.

"Bloody hell, they're angry little bastards." Blaise said.

"Well, we only need one, right?" Hermione said, "Maybe take two into another room and we'll try leveling with them one on one…" She eyed Theo and Blaise then, "…gently."

"Like you were gentle with Draco last ni—"

Theo was immediately silenced by Draco and Hermione blushed a deep crimson shade, avoiding Luna's observant smile.

"I'll go with them. The round one seemed to like me before they started attacking Blaise." Luna added before moving to follow Theo and Blaise with the pointy Goblin and the round Goblin.

As Hermione watched them turn to head into the next room, the doors to the kitchens swung open and her heart stopped.

"What in Merlin's name is going on in here?!"

"On second thought, I think we'd like to stay for this reunion." Theo said after lifting Draco's silencing spell, smirking as Pansy and Daphne strode into the room, Hermione hardly registering his words as she watched both pair of eyes fall on her.

"Well, if it isn't Hermione Granger." Pansy said tilting her head, eyes scanning her up and down and then darting to Draco as she crossed her arms. "Draco, a word?"

"Not sure if you noticed the three Goblins scattered about the room, but I'm a bit occupied at the moment Pans."

Hermione suddenly remembered the last time she saw Pansy and felt something twist in her stomach at the memory. She took a step back, unsure if she should be standing so close to Draco.

"Very well," Pansy moved to sit in the wingback chair and crossed her legs, "Once you've finished then."

Draco grimaced as he watched her lift a brow, waiting on him.

"I'd just like to say how happy I am that we're all together at this point and time in history, with such a strained political atmosphere its really great to be with friends—"

"Nott—" Draco said, "—take the Goblins into the guest room and stop talking until further notice."

"Absolutely no respect—" Theo grumbled as he levitated the Goblin once more and started towards the hall with Luna trailing behind.

"Need backup, mate?" Blaise asked with a smirk directed towards Draco after his eyes scanned the room glancing from Pansy to Hermione and back to him.

"Draco can handle himself Zabini. We won't interrupt—" Pansy gestured at the Goblin with a look of mild disgust, "—whatever it is he and Granger intend on doing with this ghastly creature."

"He has a name." Hermione heard herself saying, before frowning and glancing towards Blaise. "He has a name, hasn't he?"

"Think that one's Mondreg, the pointy one's Merton and the round one's Moron—" Blaise paused and then pointed at the Goblin on the sofa, "—or maybe that one's Moron— and this one here is Mondreg... not entirely sure."

Hermione turned to Draco, gesturing towards the Goblin. "'Suppose we're about to find out..."

Draco lifted the silencing spell and the Goblin immediately began shouting.

"WHAT HAVE YOU WAND-CARRIERS GOT AGAINST GOBLINS— NEVER 'AVE I SEEN SUCH A RUTHLESS BUNCH 'A WAND-CARRIERS— PLACIN' US IN THAT MERLIN FORSAKEN BRIEFCASE— SHRINKIN' US LIKE SOME SORT A STOLEN GOODS—"

"I'm sorry, excuse me but—" Hermione tried interrupting, but the Goblin insisted to continue as it struggle to stand to its feet, but eventually managed.

"MORON NEARLY HAD AN ATTACK ON THE HEART— POOR SOUL HASN'T THE SLIGHTEST WHAT'S HAPPENIN'— HE'S SLOW AS THEY GET AND NEARLY FRIGHTENED OF EVERYTHIN' THEN YOU LOT SNATCH 'EM UP—"

"Sir! Excuse me—" Hermione repeated, "Please, we didn't mean to frighten you. I'm sorry for the mistreatment you've endured. I promise we mean you no harm and as soon as you answer our questions you'll be free to go."

The Goblin shut its mouth and glared up at Hermione. She took this as a sign to continue.

"My name is Hermione Granger and my friends and I were hoping you could help us with finding someone."

"Bring Moron back over here!" He demanded, pointing to the Goblin near Blaise's feet, it was rolling around on its back, holding its toes. "He's a fragile one— needs to be near me at all times. Slow in the head and all that..."

"Of course." Hermione said and nodded at Blaise to levitate the Goblin back over. Once the portly Goblin sat near the other it looked content, blinking up at Hermione.

"Right, well this here's Moron— you can call me Mondreg. My brother... the one that tall, skinny, rude wand-carrier took down the hall— the one you be callin' the pointy one, his names Merton."

"Are you triplets?" Hermione inquired, unable to quiet her curiosity.

"We are—" the Goblin nodded proudly. "Inseparable since birth."

"Did you say Moron?" Pansy asked, speaking for the first time. "That's the name your mother decided on?"

"Pansy, not helping." Draco said, as the Goblin glared at her.

"Moron!" The round Goblin chimed in, bouncing slightly in his seat. "Mighty Moron."

"As I said, he's a bit slow." The Goblin grumbled, glancing from Pansy down at his round brother and shrugged. "Name fits."

"It's nice to meet you both." Hermione said then. "Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

"Depends— what are you wantin' to know?"

Hermione glanced at Draco who extended the small book to her. She took it and moved to sit across from the two Goblins, opening it to the correct page. "I stumbled upon a piece of information in this book that mentioned a locator spell— a spell that only a Goblin can perform successfully. Are you familiar with such magic?"

The Goblin glanced up slowly from the text, holding his chin high, "Yea', I might 'ave heard somethin' 'bout that sort of magic." He shrugged, "What's in it for us if we tell you."

"How does not shrinking you inside that briefcase again sound?" Draco asked plainly taking a step forward, but then paused and cleared his throat as Hermione shot him a look. He rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag, tossing it to the Goblin who caught it gracefully. "Fine, will this do?"

Mondreg opened it slowly, a creepy smile twisted on his features, his black eyes met Draco's then and he tilted his head, eyeing him up and down.

"A wealthy wizard like yerself— surely you could spare a bit more?"

Draco glared down at the Goblin, but eventually pulled out another bag of what Hermione imagined to be several galleons, keeping it in his hand.

"After you've told us what we need to know it's all yours."

Mondreg bowed to him, accepting the offer and turned to Hermione. "I know the incantation for the spell— practiced the magic a few times myself... 'suppose yer lookin' fer another Goblin?"

"Yes, his name is Griphook." Hermione answered and the Goblin laughed, nudging his brother with his elbow. Moron clapped and rolled onto his back once more, reaching for his toes.

"'Course ya' are... couldn't be any pleasant Goblin... no, has to be that miserable grudge holder— right, well I can find 'em, but that's all I'll do. Owe 'em some money ya' see. Can't stick around after that."

"Of course. Thank you." Hermione said earnestly, making the Goblin smile back, revealing several black and yellow stained teeth. She tried not to flinch at the sight as she turned to Draco. "We could get them a portkey couldn't we?"

He nodded to her and then glanced up at Blaise, "You know when Theo's cousin was expecting them back?"

"Actually, Killian asked us not to bring them back— said he's been trying to get rid of them."

"Tried tellin' Killian how to run his business." Mondreg explained to Hermione, "He didn't take a likin' to it much."

She forced a smile, "I'd imagine not. So, what else will you need for the spell?"

"You've got parchment?"

Hermione nodded.

"I'll be needed that and ink— not any normal ink or even squid in, but that deep blue colored ink—"

"You mean Azul Marino ink?" Draco asked.

"That's the one."

"We've got some in the kitchens, near the hellbore on the third shelf." Draco said to Blaise who nodded and disappeared into the kitchen behind the swinging doors.

Hermione glanced over at Pansy and Daphne who were whispering to one another and she suddenly felt very out of sorts as a silence settled over the room. She had been ignoring the pressure in her head all morning, hoping it would fade but it only seemed to get worse the longer the day wore on. Draco returned to her side with a stack of parchment.

"Will this do?" Draco asked Mondreg. The Goblin inspected it, taking it from him and nodded once. He hopped down from the sofa and moved to the center of the room.

"I'll be needing blue fire... just in the center."

Draco hesitated, lowering his wand slightly.

"Bluebell flames." Hermione explained as Moron shuffled by his brothers his side, helping him lay out six sheets of parchment in two rows.

"Would you like to do it?" Draco asked, extending his wand to her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly, smirking. "You're allowing me to use your wand?"

He shrugged. She reached for it and then drew her hand back.

"Last time I tried using it to wake you up it burned me."

"That's because I hadn't given you permission. It won't burn you this time."

She slowly reached for it, feeling her magic hum to life as her fingers wrapped around the hawthorn wood. She lifted her gaze to his to find him smiling at her reaction.

"How much longer are we meant to suffer through all this?"

Hermione turned to see Pansy stepping between them, her eyes scanning over the six sheets of parchment and two goblins grumbling with one another.

"What she means to ask is... When can we get some answers Draco?" Daphne interpreted. "We're currently relying on Theo's interpretation of what's happening and you know how dramatic he can be..."

"Not dramatic, simply informing you as to what's going on whilst also keeping you entertained." Theo said, striding up next to Daphne without announcing himself.

"Where's Luna?" Hermione asked.

"Still teaching the Goblin how to duet I think... had to get out of there before my ears fell off— their pitch is all over the place."

"Merton is somewhat of a songbird." Mondreg added, reminding the others of his presence.

Thankfully Blaise came to join them and handed the Goblin a clear tube filled with thick deep blue ink.

"Right, then... lovely you're up—" Mondreg said and then waved his hand, shooing at Theo, "—not you skinny... the curly haired one."

Hermione knelt down, ignoring Theo's loud scoff.

Mondreg pointed to the center of the collected parchment. "Place the flames just there and then you'll wan' to all step back a few paces... gets bright and might cause a small tornado."

"Tornado?" Theo asked.

"Nothing too dangerous, just a few objects floating up and around. Should be safe for a wand-carrier."

Hermione lifted Draco's wand and blue flames streamed out and landed directly where the Goblin had instructed. She felt a hand on her elbow, helping her up and glanced up to see Draco standing directly behind her. His gaze was focused on the flames and the Goblin who had begun repeating something under his breath. Hermione felt a strong breeze flow through the room and she instinctively took a step back, colliding into Draco's chest, his hands steadying her resting on either side of her waist. The wind picked up and the parchment on the floor began to float in a swirl above the Goblins.

The sound of furniture scrapping the floor all around them caught the groups attention. Theo ducked, pulling Daphne down with him as a book flung towards them. Several other items around the room began to join in the small tornado above the Goblins. Hermione instinctively placed a shield around her and Draco, barely managing to save them from being hit by a side table. Blaise did the same for him and Pansy, shuffling away.

"Thought you said it was safe?" Theo shouted over the loud wind emanating around them.

"Purlieus Totus Prendo!"

Hermione struggled to make out the words the two Goblins were now repeating. She focused on the parchment twirling above them, noticing the blue flames appeared to be etching into them, creating intricate patterns and lines. She was distracted by the sight, not realizing she dropped her shield until she felt Draco pull her firmly against him, saving her from being hit by another flying object. She placed a stronger shield up around them and continued watching the pieces of parchment fuse together, revealing what she thought looked like a map.

"Purlieus Totus Prendo!"

The Goblins chanted together and then the gust of winds began to settle as the parchment burst into blue flames so bright she had to shield her eyes, turning her head into Draco's chest. Once the bright blaze faded, the six pieces of parchment were now one, and it slowly floated to the floor. Mondreg bent over to pick it up.

Hermione glanced up to look at Draco, her heart pounding almost as loud as his, "Thanks for that."

His hands were still around her waist as he nodded down at her, his eyes flashing to her mouth before returning to her eyes, "Yea, sure, uh— you too."

"Eh hm—" Theo cleared his throat loudly, causing Draco to drop his hold and Hermione to step away. Theo glanced at Daphne and Pansy muttering something that sounded a lot like, '_what did I tell you?_'. Hermione blushed as she moved to kneel down next to Mondreg, feeling the two witches watching her closely.

"Every place that sneaky Griphook's been in the last 6 months."

Hermione eyed the map, each location was marked with a blue glowing dot, she recognized some landmarks, one being Malfoy Manor, and one of the more recent locations at the tip of an island's southwestern peninsula. She trailed her finger over the blue glow and the words Tinworth, Cornwall emerged. She felt her breath catch.

"It will show the general area to a wand-carrier, but if ya want the exact location..." Mondreg explained, reaching to touch the same spot Hermione just had, "...you'll be needin' a Goblin's touch."

Hermione watched as the words Tinworth, Cornwall slowly shifted into the outline of a building... not a building but a stand alone cottage on a cliff edge overlooking the sea.

"You see that red line there?" Mondreg asked Hermione and she nodded, "That there means this place is concealed by some wand-carrier— "

"The Fidelius Charm." She whispered more to herself than anyone else. She ran her fingers over the map and smiled to herself. She glanced up to see Draco was frowning at the map. "Each member of the Order is a secret-keeper and can find the safe house when in need... I think this may be where Harry and Ron went—" She inhaled deeply, feeling the tears brimming her eyes as she turned to look at the map again. "I think we found Harry!"

There was a silence that settled over the group that began to feel more tangible. Hermione couldn't wipe the smile off her face even though every other person in the room appeared stiff.

"Thank you Mondreg. Thank you Moron." She said brightly shaking both their hands.

"Well, if you had been the one to kidnap us we may have been a bit more friendly. Apologies for the language earlier."

Hermione smiled as Theo scoffed replying, "How bout the damages to this place? It's a disaster thanks you— "

"Give the Goblins what they earned." Draco said to Blaise, cutting Theo off. He turned to Pansy and Daphne, "Now that's sorted... You two still want that chat?"

"But Draco— " Hermione stood quickly reaching for his arm, stopping him. He turned around and she dropped her hand sensing the coldness in his stare. "What if Harry's not there? Shouldn't we check before we send them off—"

"We can't just rush off to Potter, Granger." He responded quickly, making her flinch. "If he's there we'll find out after we've prepared some form of a plan—"

"We can't wait, Draco! We've wasted so much time already. What if he leaves or— "

"What if that place is a trap and the moment we activate whatever wards are around it the whole Order descends with their wands out first, asking questions later—"

"The moment they see me they'll know— "

"Know what?" Draco asked, taking a step toward her. "They think you're dead, Granger. If they see you they'll just think it's a trap and the moment they see one of us it'll be as I said. I won't risk that. This isn't just about you."

Herminoe took a step back, feeling as if he had just slapped her. She shook her head, suddenly unable to find her voice.

"I-I never said—"

"There's a lot more at stake here than you reuniting with Potter." He said, turning on his heel and exiting the room. Pansy and Daphne slowly followed him, glancing at Hermione before they left.

Hermione stood with her arms wrapped around her torso, trying to understand what had just happened. One moment she was overcome with a joy she never thought she would feel again and the next it had been sucked out of her, leaving her in the hazy fog of bitterness Draco left in his wake.

She hadn't realized Blaise handed the two Goblins a portkey until they disappeared moments later.

Theo took a tentative step towards her, glancing down at the map by her side.

"Hey, um, I wouldn't take that personally— Draco can be a git when he's stressed—"

"Is it safe to go outside... for a walk? The wards— do they reach far enough for me to get some air?" Hermione asked, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic.

"Um, yea— but that's probably not a good idea— "

"I'll be fine." She mumbled, shoving past him and heading towards the door.

"Bollocks..." Theo muttered to himself and then shouted to Blaise that he would be back, and grabbed his coat, following her out the door.


	13. Trickery & Timing

**Chapter Playlist**

_I Think of you All the Time : Rachel Portman_

_You : Keaton Henson_

_Vampire Smile : Kayla La Grange_

_Smother : Daughter_

_Sweetheart, What Have You Done To Us : Keaton Henson_

_Harry Potter Music & Ambience, Beautiful Beach Ambience_

* * *

**A/N: Holy Shit Guys! **

**…that's all ;)**

* * *

**Flashback**

_Hogwarts, Headmaster's Office_

**_June 1997_**

Albus Dumbledore had come so close to death on several occasions that this time he felt no different than any other, save for the piercing coldness lingering in the tips of his fingers of his right hand. As he slumped in his grand throne like chair behind his desk in his office, he observed Severus Snape from behind his half-moon glasses. His pale skin and pointy nose, blurring and coming into focus, his mouth muttering incantations, pointing his wand at Dumbledore's wrist, while with his left hand he tipped a goblet full of thick golden potion down his throat. After a moment or two, Dumbledore forced his eyes to flutter open as much as he could.

Snape demanded he tell him why he had put the ring on, knowing it carried a curse. Dumbledore's gaze flickered from his blackened hand that hung limply off the side of his chair to where Marvolo Gaunt's ring lay on the desk before him. It was cracked; the sword of Gryffindor lay beside it. He grimaced, reminded of the temptation it held— the memory of overwhelming power and longing reaching out to him when he first held the ring in his grasp; resurrected was his boyhood friend, no closer than friends, he was standing beside him, his fingers laced within his, for a moment the ring had reminded him of how that had once been all he ever longed for…

When Albus did not answer Snape's question he explained that he managed to contain the curse, for now. He thanked him and slowly shifted in his throne, smiling up at the wizard who was watching him with confusion laced on his features. As an explanation he mentioned Draco Malfoy and Lord Voldemort's plans to have the boy kill him.

_In short, the boy has had a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have. Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job, once Draco fails, is yourself?_

Albus recognized something flash behind Snape's features at the mention of young Draco, an emotion he never revealed, not even in concern for Lily's son. There was a short pause. They spoke of Voldemort's plans once Albus is out of the way, taking Hogwarts under his control. After Albus made Snape promise to do everything in his power to keep the students safe, he leaned forward to rest his heavy weight on the desk to meet the wizards dark gaze, focusing on him.

_Your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well as to himself. Offer him help and guidance, he ought to accept, he likes you—_

_—much less since his father has lost favor. Draco blames me, he thinks I have usurped Lucius's position._

It did not go unnoticed by the headmaster that it caused Snape some discomfort to admit this truth, perhaps Albus would even venture to believe it pained him to have lost the boy's favor. Leaning back in his seat, he glossed over the small insight, continuing his demand that it will need to be Snape who kills him, not Draco. Somewhere behind Albus he heard Fawkes the phoenix gnawing on a bit of cuttlebone, the only sound save for his own staggered breaths. Clearly coming to terms with the request Snape turned to irony, asking if he preferred him do it now or give him time to compose an epitaph? Smiling, Albus denied the offer, hinting that his time will come.

_If you don't mind dying, why not let Draco do it?_

It was this question Albus assumed was the appropriate time to see if his understanding of Snape's intent to protect Draco did, indeed, run as deeply as he suspected.

_The boy's soul is not yet so damaged. If you could, Severus, would you prevent it from being ripped apart on my account?_

Snape was silent. Albus watched the younger wizards gaze fall from his, a contemplative expression settling across his pointed features. The weight of the silence answered all that Albus needed to know.

_I'm intrigued, Severus, you agree his soul is worth saving— or are you recognizing Draco will be granted to accept what you were never offered yourself?_

Snape did not answer him. Albus informed him further why he wished it to be him and not Greyback or Bellatrix— again, when there was no answer, save for a nod, Dumbledore felt satisfied and thanked him.

It was not until much later that evening, as Albus paced within his office that he settled on what it was that warmed him so about recalling Snape's surprised affection for Draco Malfoy. The elderly wizard stood before the pensive that evening with a knowing smile on his face. Gently raising his good hand gripping his wand he placed it to his temple and pulled it away slowly, examining it… the light blue tendril floated from his wand and disappeared into a small vial, the vial already holding a similar liquid placed there by Snape upon Albus' request.

Flicking his wrist, he watched as the vial shrunk and he summoned a small black box. With one hand he opened it, revealing a small golden sphere— shutting his eyes Dumbledore inhaled deeply thinking of the night to come, Draco's task and ultimately his fate, his death—

_Accepting it. _

Opening his eyes and glancing down he watched the golden sphere release its latch and open so the small vial could disappear within. He closed the small black box, tapped his wand over it and light magic absorbed into it, disappearing from sight… He smiled and placed it within the cabinet.

Yes, Albus Dumbledore had often come so very close to death, but it was this time that he felt ready to embrace it. He slowly limped over to his desk, stopping behind it as his fingers hovered over the cracked ring; a warm trail of liquid inched down the side of his grinning cheek.

_Professor…_

_Ah, Harry… right on time. Shall we be on our way?_

* * *

**Present**

_Theo Nott's Safe House_

**Early May**

Once Daphne and Pansy were out of the common room and in the hall that led to the door Draco had just disappeared behind, Daphne stopped and turned to face Pansy, crossing her arms over her chest. There was an odd array of smells wafting from beneath the door, but both witches promptly ignored it.

"Yes…" Pansy lifted a brow, examining the narrowed eyed witch before her; slightly amused at her attempt to appear intimidating as the dirty blonde haired witch was at least three inches shorter.

"Don't smirk at me." Daphne said, "You were far too calm back there."

"Whatever do you mean Daphne?"

Daphne took a step back to avoid Pansy's attempt to push a piece of hair from her face.

"No. Don't try to distract me either— You were unnervingly accepting of the revelation disaster that is Draco Malfoy being interested in Hermione Granger. What gives?"

Pansy scoffed, "Why should I care how to gets off anymore?"

Daphne lifted her brows, blinking several times, "You know that's not what I'm talking about. I'm not expecting you to be jealous, but this is Hermione Granger. Harry Potter's best friend. Gryffindor snob, swot, know-it-all. Her-mi-one. Gr-ang-er—"

Pansy glared back but eventually groaned, rolling her eyes.

"Fine. Yes. You absurdly observant witch!"

Daphne grinned back and tilted her head, "Explain."

Pansy sighed and leaned against the wall. "Fine, but if I tell you—"

"I won't speak a word to Draco— swear it."

Pansy nodded and then glanced down the hall to make sure they were alone.

"The cinnamon." She started, and Daphne blinked waiting for her to expand on whatever it was that was supposed to mean. "What I smelled the night I went to visit Draco, the floral scent mixed with cinnamon and the ever _obvious_ fresh parchment that I somehow missed… I've smelt it before… in Potions class, 5th year…"

"Not sure I'm following…"

"So, you know how I was disgustingly naive, right— convinced myself that Draco and I would end up together because of our parents or whatever—" Pansy asked, waiting until Daphne nodded to continue. "Yes, well. It wasn't until a certain potion lesson, fifth year, that we both realized that neither of us truly wanted that. We never said it out loud, but it was a mutual silent agreement of sorts…"

Daphne took a step closer, tilting her head, concern clouding her gaze. "What made you two realize?"

"Slughorn assigned us to create Amortentia—"

"Wait— are you saying that Draco's love potion smelt like Granger during fifth year? But t-that would mean he had feelings for her before..." Daphne closed her mouth as Pansy just nodded slowly.

"Draco refused to let me anywhere near his cauldron, well, that was until he leaned over and smelt mine…"

Daphne watched as Pansy shifted slightly, bring her arms around her torso and avoided her gaze. Daphne swallowed then, when she spoke her voice was hardly above a whisper, wondering if she already knew what she was admitting to her.

"And yours… what did he smell in yours?"

Pansy brought her teal colored eyes to hers. A small shy laugh escaping her lip, "You… raspberry lychee, like your shampoo— toasted vanilla, like that awful sweet flavor you insist on putting in your tea— and a subtle hint of smoked wood, like your favorite brand of scotch you used to sneak into the boys dormitories when we couldn't sleep…"

Daphne hadn't realized she had been holding her breath until Pansy moved from where she was leaning against the wall, and was now standing before her with her chest slowly pressing her backwards into the same wall. She released a slow breath and felt a burning sensation behind her eyelids, uncertain what was causing her to feel like crying.

"So… You both decided to keep each other's secret…" Daphne said, her voice still shaking as Pansy's eyes landed on her lips. "For Draco, it was Granger, even then— a-and for you, it was—"

Pansy nodded, whispering against her lips. "—even then."

Daphne allowed Pansy to take control, releasing any tension in her body as her full lips covered hers. She couldn't contain the sigh creeping up her throat, though Pansy wasn't bothered by it in the least, swallowing it just as quickly and pressing herself closer. After several mind-numbing moments of losing herself in their kiss, Pansy eventually pulled her mouth from hers and smiled down at her.

"I really wish one of us would have had the courage to fucking say something though. Can you imagine how wonderful it would have been to be able to do this all the time?"

Daphne laughed, bring her hands to wrap around her neck. "I'd imagine we'd have to convince Tracey to find another dormitory—"

"Oh, I could have easily arranged that."

Daphne's smile slowly turned into a grimace. "I still can't imagine Draco having feelings for her— did you two ever talk about it?"

"Oh, gods no." Pansy shook her head. "I'm certain he was in complete denial about the whole ordeal, claiming he added too many rose thorns or not enough pearl dust— which we both know is complete bollocks since he's always been brilliant with potions… but we both knew what my cauldron revealed and when he didn't say anything… I suppose he knew I wouldn't either."

"Pardon me ladies." Blaise said, slowly coming towards them. "I pride myself distinctly on being as much of Theo's opposite as possible, which is why I am announcing myself as the two of you—" he gestured to their embrace.

"Yes, thank you for granting us what a sensible person would recognize as common decency—" Pansy said dropping her arms from Daphne's waist and stepping back, "—clearly, a social cue our dear Theodore did not inherit from his ghastly father."

"And by that she means to say… Your efforts do not go unnoticed and are greatly valued. Thank you, Blaise." Daphne said with a slight bow of her head towards him.

Blaise bowed back, smirking as he nodded towards the door behind them. "Either of you checked on Draco?"

"Ah, right— that's what I was doing before you began mauling me."

"You pushed me against the wall." Daphne countered.

Blaise moved forward and stepped between them bringing both arms to wrap over their shoulders.

"Young love— so ripe— so beaut—"

He stopped talking as they shoved through the doors revealing a very concentrated, very scattered looking Draco. His hair was in a tangled mess, his top buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

The three of them slowly and quietly observed the scene before them, watching, equally impressed and amused.

"He looks… unhinged." Pansy whispered, her eyes following the ingredients floating around the room at Draco's command.

"Should we... I don't know— intervene somehow?"

"No." Blaise answered Daphne, "Better to let it play out. Ten galleons says he doesn't realize were even here for fifteen minutes?"

"Make it twenty and your on?"

Pansy and Blaise tilted their head to look at Daphne expectantly.

"Ugh, fine." She sighed under breath. "But I'm betting it'll only take ten minutes."

* * *

There was hardly any light, only rolling clouds of fog filtering through the curved glass windows in the safe house's kitchens as Draco shuffled around the array of boiling and simmering cauldrons upon the large black stone kitchen island. His abrupt departure from the common room where he assumed the others still resided, met him with the overwhelming need to distract himself, which is how had begun burying himself with the task of preparing the potions he had been forced to neglect over the last several weeks. It was a welcoming diversion from the massive amounts of information attempting to consume his mind.

He had run his hands through his hair so many times he was certain his thick blonde strands were over a few inches high. He had both of his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a wand in one hand as the other directed the traffic of the many potions floating from the wall of ingredients towards him, or hovering above the appropriate cauldron until he gave permission for it to join the others beneath.

It had only taken him two minutes to find his process, falling into the rhythm with an effortless ease he often took for granted. With a few ingredients that were still in need of preparations scattered on the chopping board before him, he summoned a tall stool and a sharp knife and began cutting and slicing, emptying his mind of much else. The process quickly formed into a pattern of him checking the temperatures and statuses, timing each boil, adding ingredients and filling vials once he felt they were fully prepared to his standards.

Mentally he reminded himself to thank Theo for setting the kitchens up as he would have organized his own personal potions lab. Everything was as it should be for once and it calmed the raging nonsense he knew would not be silenced long within his mind. He wondered if Theo had known he would need some sense of control and intentionally prepared the entire safe house with that in mind. It wouldn't have been the first time his best friend managed to think ahead of him in regards to keeping himself and his mind, stable…

The ease of silence only lasted about ten minutes before he felt as if someone was watching him from across the vast kitchen island covered in ingredients and different sized cauldrons It was at least twelve feet in size, clearly magically extended to accommodate the several cauldrons. Another observant and premeditated addition from Theo.

Draco snapped his head up, placing his knife down, to see Blaise, Pansy and Daphne watching him with mixed expressions of amusement and impenitence.

In his need to be out of the same room as Hermione he had completely forgotten about them. He wasn't sorry. His mind was thoroughly Granger-free… for about ten minutes and now it wasn't, and yes, well… now he was reminded he was meant to be angry.

"What is it?" He snapped.

"You know I read a book once—" Blaise started as Draco rolled his eyes commenting, 'Riveting, I wasn't aware you knew how to read' to which Blaise promptly ignored and continued, "A muggle book. The main character was described as a mad scientist, wealthy man and usually quiet orderly in his appearance, but when he set to work in his laboratory I imagine he looked a bit like what you look like right now—

"You insult me Zabini—" Draco said plainly, "—a bi-polar, egotistical failure of a man whose biggest advisory, and thus the monster of the story, was himself— falls a bit short in comparison, don't you think?"

"I'm impressed—" Blaise shot back coming to stand before him, "—you've read Stevenson?"

"No, not a clue as to what you're talking about…" Draco said, turning his attention to peer into one of the simmering cauldrons.

Blaise smirked, stepping aside so Daphne and Pansy could take his place.

"You owe me twenty galleons." Daphne said to Blaise.

Draco lifted a brow at him and he just shrugged, peering into another cauldron muttering, "I haven't a clue as to what you're talking about…"

"I suppose you two came to have that chat?" Draco asked, still admiring his handiwork.

"Yes… if you would be so inclined to pull your detriment of a head from your preciously polished arse for a few moments?"

"By which she means," Daphne said with a falsely kind smile, batting her eyelashes. "We require your undivided attention."

Draco's gaze flashed between the two witches. He frowned as he considered them both for several moments. "This… " He gestured his hand lazily in the air between them, "…I've decided I don't care for it. Make it stop."

Pansy and Daphne smirked at one another before turning their smiles to him.

"It's truly invigorating…" Pansy said smugly, "… the weight that's lifted when you no longer have to hide how you truly feel about someone after _years_ of built up fear and anticipation over what would come once you've accepted there's no outrunning the truth…"

"Perhaps you should to give it go?" Daphne added slyly. "Could certainly prevent you believing you're actually distracting yourself any longer— save us all the prolonged torture of watching you two finding any excuse to move closer to one another or steal awkward glances at one another when you think the other won't notice—"

"As stated previously," Draco clipped, cutting her off, "Whoever gave the two of you permission to join forces should be required to endure the unbearable consequences."

"Since when have I ever asked for permission, Draco?" Pansy teased, leaning on the black stone countertop.

He lifted one brow, glancing somewhere above her head and then back at her. "Right, never. You never ask for permission."

"Thanks for that mental image." Daphne said, only slightly bothered as Draco glanced at her. "Now, mind catching us up on why you've sudden decided that finding Potter is on your list of priorities?"

"Yes, and skip all the Granger almost dying obscenities — Theo already provided us with a very vivid, very bloody image that I would like very much to forget." Pansy added with a flip of her hand as if to be rid of the memory.

Draco glanced over at Blaise. "Would you mind making a run for me while I catch them up?"

"Gladly. Where to?

Blaise took the bag Draco had filled with several vials, shrinking it down and placing it in his pocket.

"The Carrows will be checking the potions stash at Hogwarts either today or tomorrow. I've labeled the ones that need to be refilled with purple stoppers. Be sure to keep under a disillusionment charm." Draco explained and shoved a piece of parchment across the table, it was covered in his delicately written cursive. "… and these are the ingredients I need from your step-father. Double this time. Granger will need it to recover after the first extraction and who knows when we'll be able to safely reach out to him once we find Potter. Also, take Mink with you. I don't trust that things are as calm as they seem at Hogwarts. She'll be there in case you need a quick escape."

Draco snapped his fingers and stood from the stool as the small elf appeared.

"Master is needing Mink?"

"I need you to go with Blaise on a short trip. You'll be in charge of protecting him and making sure he gets back safely."

"Mink will protect Master's friend like Mink was protecting Master." The elf placed its small hand over its chest with wide eyes intent of conveying her promise.

"I know you will." Draco said offering the elf a small smile. He glanced over at Blaise, "The additional potions… the ones with the red stoppers— those go to Kilchurn Castle. Mink knows how to get on the island."

Mink made a small wailing noise and Blaise looked hesitant then, but only nodded. Draco turned to Mink once more, kneeling down to only speak to her.

"Mink, I know I promised that you wouldn't have to return to that place again, but I have to keep up appearances or the Dark Lord will know somethings off… Do you understand?"

Mink nodded, tears already filling the elves eyes. Draco lifted his hands to rest on her small shoulders to keep them from shaking.

"You need only drop the potions off. Hide Blaise somewhere away from the castle, take them to the guard and then return with Blaise. Easy as that. Do not stay a moment longer. Alright?"

The elf immediately nodded. "What if Mink is running into other Master like last time?"

Draco stiffened, "My father was at Kilchurn?"

Mink nodded with twice as much vigor, "Other Master has been at the Castle every time Mink's been sent with the potions."

Draco slowly dropped his hands from the elves shoulders, entirely uncertain what to make of that information. Eventually he nodded, and stood to his feet.

"Very well… I'm commanding you to not obey him if you happen to see him again and if you do inform me immediately." Draco took a step back but then paused, "Mink… my mother was she with him?"

Mink shook her head slowly, "No, Misses is not happy with the Other Master and Misses is forbidding Mink from tending to the Misses…"

"She's asked you to stop her care?" Draco asked, suddenly unable to stop the hurricane of thoughts involving his parents from surfacing.

"Misses has insisted Mink stop helping Other Master when she is not being well, yes…" Mink answered timidly.

"That will be all Mink. Thank you." Draco said, his throat suddenly feeling as if he had swallowed a bucket of stones.

"Draco— you alright, mate?" Blaise asked.

"Fine. Check on Lovegood before you two leave. Have Mink give her some calming draught or dreamless sleep, if she needs it— there should be extra of both in the bag."

Blaise nodded and turned to Mink who smiled up at Blaise.

"Master's friend will be safe with Mink. Mink is not afraid of anything."

Blaise smirked down at the elf, "Well that makes one of us I suppose. When you're ready my lady."

Mink giggled, glancing at Draco as she reached to grab Blaises hand. "Master's friend is very nice."

Blaise lifted two fingers to his forehead and saluted Draco right before Mink apparated both of them to whichever room Luna was resting in.

"I always did like your elf." Pansy noted, eyeing the place Mink and Blaise had just been standing. "Even if she was a bit too attached to you— borderline creepily so, but I suppose it's sort of sweet, you know, as far as wizard-elf pairings go…"

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" Draco said, moving to sit down again as Pansy and Daphne moved to do the same.

"Right." Daphne said, "You want Granger, but won't admit it to either her or yourself—"

Draco let out a loud sigh as he dropped his head to the countertop, shoving both hands to firmly clasp in his hair.

"Fine. Sorry— start with the boring bit then."

"It all sort of happened the day leading up to your first transformation actually—" Draco started, releasing his hair to lean forward. "—the Dark Lord gave me a task to retrieve memories from the prisoners they kept at the Ministry…"

* * *

Stepping out of the safe house was like entering into another world. The morning fog surrounding them made it almost impossible to see more than a few feet and the soft, wet ground beneath Theo's boots forced him to use much more effort to walk than he would have liked. Quickly lifting one mud-drenched boot after the next, he managed to catch up with the stubborn curly headed witch, just barely making out her small form through the heavy fog. She had come to a stop near a gagged-edged river bank beneath a sagging willow tree. The river was blanketed by the heavy fog, providing a very dreary sight to match the witches slightly slumped posture.

He slowed his steps, eventually catching his breath as he stood a few feet away from her. He glanced behind him to find the abandoned Manor was no longer visible. Hermione was starring out across the vast greyness floating over the river, her arms wrapped tightly around her, bringing his attention to the folded map still firm in her grasp. Her chest was rising and falling in strained movements, as if she was having slight difficulty breathing, and her eyes were narrowed slightly. He cleared his throat even though he was certain she had already known he followed her out.

"Mind if I join you?"

She glanced at him and then back out over the river, sighing as she said, "No. I don't mind."

He watched as she shut her eyes, rubbing her left arm, clearly trying to hide the discomfort she was still having from the curse. He hadn't thought much to how much pain she must still be in, but he was never one to bring up serious topics if he could help it. He shifted from one foot to the other scanning the fog before them.

"I never did apologize for being such a git when you woke up that day…" He said, tightening his fists in his pockets and letting out a heavy breath. _Merlin, did he hate having serious conversations. They made him anxious and feel like someone was peeling off his skin in hopes to find some other, shinier, more acceptable layer hidden inside— _"I probably could have broken the news to you with less…"

"Passionate hatred?" She offered, tilting her head to the side. He didn't miss the hint of a smirk on the corner of her mouth as she lifted a brow at him.

Theo shrugged, letting a small laugh escape him. "I probably would have landed on disagreeable disposition… but yea, passionate is one word for it…"

Hermione nodded, still keeping her gaze straight ahead. Theo groan inwardly, _the witch was going to make this unbearable for him, wasn't she? _

"It was just that… It was difficult for me to hear you talk about him like that— don't get me wrong I understand why, I know how much of a tosser he was to you and Potter— but its different now…"

He glanced over to see her tilt her head to regard him as he continued speaking. He inhaled and tried to exhale all the bullshit anxiety inside his chest that was causing him to feel every emotion possible all at once.

"It was so hard for me to understand why Draco saved you— why he would risk everything he's spent his entire life working to protect. He built up so many defenses against everything that could possibly go wrong after what happened with his mother, and then Pansy…"

Theo forced another shaky breath out as he remembered the lengths Draco went to to ensure Theo never had to face an ounce of the shit he went through.

"He's sacrificed so much of himself— even our friendship at one point and it's almost killed him— you've gotten to see just a glance of it— he pushes himself so far without any concern for himself— if it means he can protect the people he cares about…"

Theo paused and glanced down at his feet, burying his toe in the dirt, hoping to also shove the dreadfully heavy feelings filling his chest and lungs, making it difficult to think or breath. The feeling reminding of how alone he felt towards the beginning of the school year, when Draco kept trying to push him away—

He lifted his head once more to find her eyes heavy with concern, but she didn't say anything. He was glad she didn't because he might not have had to courage to confess to her what he hadn't admitted to anyone, not even Draco.

"You know he never told any of us about Dumbledore. We knew the Dark Lord had tasked him with something after his father failed, but he was determined to do it alone. I'd never felt more…_empty_ and utterly useless than I did when he stopped talking to me… He refused to let me help him… and I know why he did it—" Theo shook his head, swallowing, his throat clenching with the need to inhale but he wasn't sure he could keep it from sounding like a fucking sob so he just kept talking, "— I know he thought he was protecting me, keeping me from becoming a Death-Eater or whatever, but it didn't make it fucking hurt any less, you know? Watching him day after day, withering away, practically letting himself slowly— just— just fucking die, you know? And he wouldn't accept any help because he was s-so fucking terrified one of us might end up— I don't know— joining him? die for him—?"

He hadn't realized he had started breathing so quickly until he stopped talking. Hermione was watching him, her tears no longer lingering in her eyelids but trailing slowly down her face. Theo let out an awkward laugh that sounded pathetic, a lot like a wounded animals last breath.

"Anyway…" He shrugged, glancing away from her. "The point behind the fucking sob story was to just… apologize, initially, but also inform you why I couldn't understand that after surviving all that and ensuring he could protect everyone he cared about and manage to protect himself— he would risk it— all of it— to save you… at first— I couldn't understand it at first." He clarified as she glanced away, wiping a tear, before meeting his gaze once more.

She inhaled, swallowing nervously, tilting her chin up as she asked, "… and now?"

"Well now I've come to terms that my best friend finally found something he's proud to fight for— I don't think he ever felt there was any other choice before. I've never heard him speak the way he did back at the Manor… about choices and ensuring the ones who die are the ones who deserve to and all that Gryffindor nonsense… He's proud to fight by _your_ side, knowing its worth the risk of everything he built within the darkness, founded by fear— I can see that now... " Theo smiled over at her as her eyes widened, and began blinking rapidly, seemingly unable to speak, "—whether you realize it or not Granger, you've made a hero out of a coward— even managed to get me cozying up to the idea of switching teams so, credit where credit's due and all that bullocks…"

"That's what you call an apology?" She finally managed to ask, slightly breathless. "Theo, that was— that was—"

"Yes, I know… I have a way with words."

She shoved his shoulder, though he didn't miss the small smile twitch on her mouth.

"No need to linger on the topic though, just needed to say my peace. You can stop being all emotional like a blubbering Hufflepuff."

Hermione tried hiding her smile by tucking her bottom lip behind her tooth, and simply nodded, "Right, because I'm the one who just confessed that you want to help me find Harry—"

"What? I admitted to no such thing—"

"You insinuated as much—" Hermione said, feigning disinterest in arguing.

"Careful, Granger… insinuating is very similar to assuming."

"Fine—" she sighed and then glanced up at him, her face turning serious, "—semantics aside, thank you all the same and I'm glad you came after me. You're a good friend, Theo."

Theo bowed his head to her and the heavy atmosphere seemed to settle between them, despite the growing fog lingering around them.

"Also, Draco doesn't know how fucked up I was over the whole him being a selfishly selfless wanker so maybe don't mention it?"

"Your secret's safe with me…" She said and then added, "…on one condition—"

"Name it."

"If you know Draco and I are alone in a room, maybe try not barging in unannounced?"

"Cheeky cheeky, Granger—" He lifted a brow at her and laughed as a deep blush rose to her face, "I'll see what I can do. No promises, though."

"I suppose that will do." She smiled again before turning her attention back over the foggy river.

"Right, then— lay it on me."

She turned to look at him a frown growing on her features.

"You were upset when you came out here— I loosened the tension by revealing parts of me I'd rather drown in a sea of raging piraña's— it's your turn to open up and let me heal you of your sorrow."

She pursed her lips, "—a sea of raging piraña's was the other option you said?"

"Fresh out of portkeys to land you near an Amazonian river, so unfortunately not an option…"

"Ah…" she nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and glancing away again.

"Come on, Granger— The universe only allows me to be a decent human for approximately thirty minutes a decade and your wasting it with tragic efficiency."

She shook her head, "You truly are always so dramatic, aren't you?" She signed and then turned to him, "Yes, I was upset."

"I'm listening…"

"Well…" Hermione bit her lip, "…Draco and I— we've been— well, it's complicated, you see, because— he and I aren't— I mean we haven't really even acknowledged it let alone decided— and that's just it, Theo— he's so bloody talented in saying one thing but it having a million different possibilities as to what it could mean— and I— I just think he's scared or— maybe he doesn't want what I think he does—" she scrunched her face up at him, "Am I making any sense?"

"Not sure yet," Theo admitted, "Give me an example."

"Well, its the same each time really— I ask him what happens next, after we find Harry— I know he's planning to deflect and it's important to plan how he's to do it to keep everyone safe— but then we seem to just hit a wall every time the conversation leads to that question— he either distracts me or we're interrupted—"

"Distracts you how…?" Theo cleared his throat as she glared at him in response, "Right, you were saying?"

"I just don't really know what's happening between us…" she sighed and stared down at the map in her hands, "…and now that I have this—"

"Look, Granger—" Theo interrupted her and shifted to stand directly in front of her. "I know we don't know each other that well, and I'm probably the last person you trust with—"

"I trust you." Hermione said before he could finish.

He was speechless for a breath, then tilted his head, "You do?"

"I know you want me to believe that you're only doing all this, helping me, bringing the Goblins here, for Draco, but I think there's more to it than that."

"I will neither confirm nor deny the validity to that statement— though, we're talking about you here, not me, so shall I insert my own deduction?"

Hermione gestured her hand out, as if to say by all means.

"You have feelings for Draco, yes?"

Hermione's mouth opened and closed, "I mean— I don't—"

"You have feelings for Draco." Theo confirmed and then continued, "Draco has feelings for you. No need to try and argue that one— as his best friend I am exceedingly aware of these things— but, Draco has shit self-esteem and you have intimacy issues— again, no need to argue, both statements are correct, research has proven it so—"

"Research?" Hermione lifted a brow, but Theo instantly ignored her.

"So— that leaves you both at a stand-still where Draco believes himself undeserving and you questioning every small motive behind every word or decision he makes. And thus, Draco's already conjured up the reality of you choosing Potter over him and you've conjured about a ten other realities where his intentions were never true, which causes you to question everything that has followed…" Theo crossed his arms over his chest, lifting his chin slightly. "So, am I right or am I right?"

Hermione promptly closed her mouth, looking as if she had just lost a debate over elf-rights or something equally as fortuitous, in Theo's opinion.

"Do you want my advice on how to deal with Draco when he's a insistent on being moody prat?"

"I have a feeling you'll tell me regardless." She muttered, making Theo smirk and nod once.

"You can't both be so in your heads. You have to just go for it— if you want it that is— and fair warning , he's pretty mentally unstable in every sense of the definition, but if anyone's capable of handling that type of shit I'd imagine it'd be you. You have dealt with Potter for years so Draco will only be mildly worse."

"I don't think you can compare whose had it worse, Theo. We've all had our fair share of terrible circumstances—"

"Be that as it may, Potter may have had to deal with being hunted by the Dark Lord every once in awhile, but Draco's had to _live_ with the fucker." Theo shrugged, "Seeing what he's seen, what he's been force to do… that kind of pressure would fuck anybody up. But you're missing the point—"

"I have to just go for it?" Hermione repeated shaking her head slightly, a smile tugging on her lips. "No, I heard you Theo. I'll consider your advice." She nudged him with her elbow and smiled up at him. "Thanks, again…"

"Yeah…" Theo scratched the back of his neck. "Don't mention it."

They were quite for a beat and Theo was considering leaving her with her thoughts when he felt something tug on his back pocket. He turned to see Hermione slowly backing away from him with his own wand pointed at him.

"What the fuck Granger?" He shouted, moving to grab it from her but stopped as she lifted it higher. Her entire face looked pained with guilt as she held the map in one hand, now completely open and the wand lifted in the other.

"I'm sorry—" she said, sounding every bit as guilty as she looked. "—but I can't wait. Harry needs me—"

"Granger—"

"You said yourself— just go for it—"

"I meant telling Draco how you feel, not fucking betraying him!"

She lowered his wand an inch then, her expression deepening.

"I'm not choosing Harry over him. I'm not. As soon as I find Harry and Ron I'll bring them back here. We can all figure this out together—"

"Granger if you do this," Theo shook his head, letting out a shaky breath, "if you fucking do this— "_ it will break him_— and then in an instant Theo considered just how much it would break his best friend and he made his own decision. "—let me come with you. I'll go with you, yea? We can find them and bring them back together!"

Her chest was rising and falling quickly as she considered his proposition.

Theo look a step closer, pleading, "Granger… please— after everything I just told you…"

"It's because of what you told me that I have to do this— the longer we wait the more danger he's in— I know he'll want to make a plan and he'll want to be the only one whose at risk, but I can't let him do that— if I go now then it's on me—"

"You must understand why I can't let you go alone— I can't see him broken again. I won't let that happen."

"You swear you won't try and stop me? You'll help me find Harry?" She asked and Theo hesitated as he watched her lift the wand, pointing it at his head. "Theo, I need your word or I do this alone. This is Harry— I-I need you to promise—"

Theo inhaled and exhaled three times before he nodded, feeling his stomach twist into a tight knot with the slow movement.

"Yes. I promise."

* * *

There was a terrible jolt of air shifting around the pair as they landed roughly on the sand beneath them. Hermione felt her body roll twice before she managed to control her movements. The abrupt landing combined with the constant discomfort in her forearm caused her to pause, hoping to catch her breath and bury the searing pain long enough to stand.

The pain coursing through her veins was slowly becoming more intense, and tremendously more difficult to ignore.

As she slowly shoved herself upright from where she lay against the cool sand she heard the crashing of waves repeatedly breaking and flowing backwards to break again. Above her the sky was a welcoming contrast of bright blue with scattered birds chirping aimlessly as they passed over her. She heard someone groaning off to her right and hurriedly to Theo's side.

"Are you alright?" She asked, watching him firmly press his hand to his rib cage.

"You're bloody rubbish at side apparition witch." He grunted out, accepting her help with bringing him to his feet.

He looked pale, but upon noticing nothing else seemed out of sorts Hermione began to frantically scan her surroundings. No longer trapped inside the emerald suite belonging to Draco or in the misty fog surrounding the safe house, she felt truly free for the first time since arriving at Malfoy Manor. Her magic was buzzing through her chest, helping her ignore the searing pain vibrating from her forearm.

"Where are we?" The asked, taking in the scenery beside her.

They both scanned their surroundings, taking in the sun shining down on the ocean. There was nothing immediately distinct about where they were and Hermione wondered if she had thought of the correct place. She glanced back down at the map and back up at the vast grass dunes stretched for miles before her.

"Somewhere near Cornwall, I think."

"You think?" Theo asked, turning to face her.

"Well, the map doesn't give you an exact address. Besides, the Order would have concealment charms placed over their safe house. It will only appear once were close enough to activate the wards. I suppose we should… just start walking?"

Both of Theo's brow lifted into his hairline. "I don't do nature strolls Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes, not bothering with convincing him to follow. She could feel her bones aching slightly more with each step. Her heartbeat was racing in her chest. She gently grazed her fingers over her forearm, trying to hide her wince as the tender skin beneath her sleeve pulsed with a raging fury.

She tried focusing on something else, but immediately regretted it when her thoughts shifted to Draco. She knew Theo was right in a sense, but she couldn't pass up the opportunity to find Harry when it was starring her straight in the face. Theo was practically handing his wand over to her with his speech about 'going for it'— She had waited so long and they were running out of time. Her reasons for finding Harry weren't only for her, but for Draco too— she wondered if he would see it that way… It pained her to think that Draco may not forgive her, but if it meant that he would be one step closer to no longer having to answer to Voldemort then she would do anything—

"Say— what's your plan anyway?" Theo called up to her, slowly following behind. She thought she saw him lean down to pick up a shell or two, tossing them over the small hillside towards the ocean out of the corner of her eye, but was keeping her eyes forward hoping something would appear. They had walked over a mile now before Theo spoke up. "Planning to just waltz right up to wherever Potter's hiding out— announce yourself, hope they don't start throwing hexes, tell them you've been alive all this time— then expect them to just gladly follow us back to the safe house?"

Hermione was about to answer when she felt the skin above her scar twitch, as if one of the branded words had been slightly re-opened. She inhaled deeply, trying to focus on the sound of the waves for comfort, deciding to not answer him. Which didn't seem to bother him as five minutes later he was talking again.

"Perhaps it's better if you don't have a plan. Just wing it. Usually works out for you lot, doesn't it? But there is the slight possibility Potter isn't even here… Goblin could have just been fucking with us— you know, I never trusted Goblins— or witches who steal my wand and make me trek the seaside like a fucking scavenger—"

"Theodore!" Hermione turned on her heal, her hair wiping around her face as the breeze angrily passed them by. "Must you complain the entire time?"

"Uh, Granger—"

"I know you don't want to be here, but I'm trying very hard not to hex you and send you back to the safe house—"

"Granger!"

"What?"

Theo lifted his arm, his finger extended pointing at something behind her in the distance. Hermione turned around quickly and felt her heart leap in her chest, forgetting for a solid minute, all about the pain tearing at her veins.

About fifty yards away stood a building, its walls embedded with shells and whitewashed, two chimneys sticking out on either side as it faced the sea, the crashing waves stopping only a few feet before the small inclined cliff it sat upon. Behind the cottage was a wire fence, green shrubbery and a small garden within it. Hermione noticed then someone opening the back door and she felt the warm liquid pouring from her eyes, not even bothering with wiping them away. She couldn't breath, but she didn't care. Her throat stung and her chest was tight as a soft sob of relief slipped through her lips.

"Harry…"

All of the longing that built up over the last few weeks seemed to pour out of her, streaming down her face. She hadn't realized how much she had been suppressing her desire to see him again— to know he was safe, to let him know she was too—

"Granger, wait—" Theo grabbed her right arm, causing her to stop from where she was about to take off at a full sprint. She glared back at him trying to remove her arm.

"Theo— let me go! That's Harry— he's here!" She turned around, hoping that it wasn't a mirage and needing to confirm that she wasn't crazy. Her heart was bursting with happiness.

_He was here._

_He was safe._

_Harry was safe._

She opened her mouth to shout for him when Theo insisted on holding her arm firmly in his grasp, and quickly covered her mouth with his hand.

"Granger, just wait a fucking moment—" he whisper shouted, pulling her back into him. She started shifting, trying to maneuver out of his arms, but then stopped when she saw another person step out of the cottage. She narrowed her eyes. Her heart no longer leaping out of her chest, instead it firmly dropped, feeling heavier than it ever had before.

_Ron…_

He walked slowly to join Harry. His clothes were spattered with blood. Hermione shook her head, the tears continued to pour down her face. She felt a heavy dread of confusion and longing to run to them.

"I'm going to let you go, but you have to keep a level head about this… they think you're dead. You can't just run across the beach shouting at them, they'll hex you right on the spot— even if they don't there's a rational way to handle this. Got it?" Theo said sternly, waiting for her to nod. She did and he slowly let her go. She glanced back towards the cottage, Harry was on his knees and his head hanging down as Ron seemed to be shaking with tears. The image left her feeling as broken as they looked.

"I'll go first. I'll explain everything, but I'll need my wand."

Hermione turned to look at him, considering the all the possible things that could go wrong—

"You said you trusted me, but I haven't earned that from you—" Theo said, lifting his arm as he nodded to his wand. "—let me?"

Hermione swallowed, tasting the saltiness from her tears and the breeze wiping around them. It was so difficult for her not to ignore him and run to Harry and Ron, but her logical side won in the end. She slowly lifted the wand and placed it in his hand. He nodded, taking it from her.

"Alright, just stay calm. Now, tell me something only you and Potter would know."

Hermione's brow pulled together in confusion.

"Like a secret code I can pass along so he doesn't hex my bloody brains out—"

"Oh— um…" Her chest was still rising and falling rapidly and Theo was certain she looked on the verge of passing out. She looked… very pale, actually—

"While we were in Godric's Hallow, on Christmas, we visited his parents grave. I conjured a wreath of Christmas rose's for them…" Her eyes seemed to glaze over, lost in the memory as her voice got softer, "I wanted to leave them something beautiful. He and I were the only ones there. He'll know you're telling the truth if you tell him that.

"A wreath of Christmas roses's?" Theo repeated back to her.

Hermione could only nod. She couldn't tare her eyes away from Harry.

"Don't leave this spot Granger. Got it?"

Theo took her silent nod as confirmation and then inhaled a deep breathe before slowly walking towards the cottage, mumbling beneath his breath, "Draco's going to fucking murder me…"

* * *

It would have been easy to kill them, Theo thought as he slowly strode up to the cottage— not that he wanted to, but being the observant bloke that he was— he realized that if he were a Death Eater then capturing or killing them would be a walk in the park.

His thoughts stopped abruptly as he finally took the last step up to the wire fence and cleared his throat. As expected both its raised their wands. Theo, being the ever survival-savy and diligent wizard he was had already apparated from the spot they directed the hexes and was now standing behind them. Before they could turn around he had already cast a body-binding curse on Potter, knowing he was the far more talented dueler out of the two, and as he made to do the same on the red-headed git, he felt himself being knocked off his feet.

Luckily, he was also prepared for that and whilst in mid air, he disarmed them both and their wands darted over to him, landing beside him as he fell. He shuffled quickly to his feet, wiping off some of the sand. As he raised his head slowly, he noticed Weasley was standing firmly in front of Potter with his fists up, breathing louder than a baboon in heat.

"Save your heavy breathing Weaselbe. I'm here to have a chat with Potter."

"Nott?" Potter asked through gritted teeth, his entire body was still rigid but his lips could still move.

"Who else is with you?" Ron demanded frantically.

Theo leaned to the side an inch to look around Ron, directly at Harry. He raised his eyes brows once, sending him a wink. "Hey Potter... Long time, yea? Now, I am willing to unbind you if you and your guard dog promise to play nice."

"You're the one with the wands, Nott!" Ron grunted out. "What do you want with Harry? Are their others coming?"

Theo sighed, waving his wand once and watched as Ron's body flung back several feet and then ropes shot out of his wand wrapping themselves around the angry red-head.

"What do you want, Nott? " Potter asked stiffly. Theo smirked and waved his wand once more, allowing Potter's release. Harry shuffled forward, catching himself before he landed face first. Theo took a step towards him, ignoring the grunting wizard behind him, help Harry catch his balance and grinning down at him before taking a step back.

"Is that anyway to greet an old friend?"

"Friend?" Potter repeated with a scoff, though it lacked any real venom, Theo noted. It sounded almost… defeated. "We've never been friends, Nott."

"No… I suppose we haven't been, though I do recall that one time in forth year— or have you forgotten?"

Theo watched as Potter's face remained completely empty of any emotion. The longer he inspected the wizard he realized that he did look utterly defeated, pale, and completely miserable. Theo narrowed his eyes at him. His old snarky comebacks were missing along with whatever spark he previously had while they were in school.

"That was hardly an action that attracts friendship."

Theo smirked at this. "Attracts…" He glanced behind Potter at Ron who was still wresting with the ropes around him. "Interesting word choice, Potter… Tell me, does Weasley know about that night?"

As Theo expected, this did get a small reaction out of the raven-haired wizard. His deep green eyes glared into Theo's, sending a familiar vibration of excitement through his chest that he had felt around this wizard once before, the very night they were hinting at, though Weasley seemed completely oblivious. _So Potter hadn't told anyone… _

"Why are you here Nott? How did you find us?"

Theo took another step closer, both hands behind his back as he came within reaching distance. Harry tilted his chin up at him, not giving away anything in his blank expression.

"I happen to have something of yours." Theo started, slowly licking his bottom lip and not missing the way Harry's eyes flicker to his mouth. "Well, _someone_…"

"Harry! Don't listen to him! He's lying! He's Malfoy's best friend— he's probably called You-Know-Who already! We have to get out of here!"

Theo ignored Ron's shouting, keeping his green eyes on Harry's, a playful smirk rising on his face as he lifted his sleeves on both arms. Harry glanced down and noticed the bare skin.

"I'm not here to betray you." Theo said, trying to sound as earnest as he could. "I'm here to help you."

Ron scoffed and Theo simply waved his wand in his direction, silencing the git; inwardly congratulating himself for casting the spell so effortlessly as that was Draco's usual go-to, not his.

"You said you had someone?" Harry asked, all business.

Theo nodded, and for the first time felt a little unsettled._ Was he really about to be the one to reveal that his best friend wasn't dead? That she had been alive all along?_

It was obvious that both wizards were withered versions of themselves, especially Harry. He looked several years older and clearly lost a part of himself... probably from feeling responsible for Granger's death...

"I want you to listen to me before you react, alright?"

Harry narrowed his eyes, considering him for a moment before glancing back at Ron, who was grunting wildly, begging Potter to not trust him.

"Could you untie him?"

Theo rolled his eyes and flicked his wand in Weasley's direction. The ropes fell around him and he quickly ran over to them, fists clenched. Theo took a quick step back, but was surprised when Harry was the one to stop him.

"Ron— wait." Harry said, bring both hands to Ron's chest to slowly shove him back. "He's not here to give me over to You-Know-Who... I trust that much."

Theo swallowed, unsure of what to make of that confession, but was hardly able to consider it as Ron glared past Potter directly at him, nostrils flaring.

"How could you Harry? He's no different than the rest of them!" Ron said angrily, shoving Harry's hands away from his chest. "He was probably at the raid and followed us back here! He could have been the one who killed Charlie!"

Theo listened carefully to what they were saying, in hopes to bring the information back to Draco. He didn't miss the way Potter flinched at the mention of losing someone and Theo conceded he'd waited enough.

"Hermione's alive."

Both wizards yanked their gaze to his, eyes searching with hurt, fury, and guilt seeming to consume them.

"W-What did y-you jus-st say?" Ron breathed out, his chest lifting and falling rapidly, as Harry stood completely still. His hands still loosely gripped on Ron's shirt as he stared at Theo, his expression full of shock.

"I said, Hermione is alive. She's the one who brought me here." Theo said, feeling the weight of his words fall on them. He couldn't help but linger his gaze on Harry... Harry who was looking at him with such a passionate longing for his words to be true. Theo took a slow step towards him, dropping his chin to emphasize his words. "I'm telling the truth."

"He's lying!" Ron shouted, ripping away from Harry's shocked-like grasp on his shirt. He looked rabid— like an animal who was overcome with a disease, unfortunately that disease was grief. "He's fucking lying! S-She's d-dead— I-I watched her die! I-I..."

"Potter…" Theo said taking another step closer, noticing that Harry's eyes were glazed over— almost white with in their inability to focus, as if he was no longer present.

It was then that Theo realized what he had noticed earlier was worse than he thought; the defeated look in his eyes was a thousand times heavier now as he seemed to think of the curly-haired witch. Theo tried to force Harry to look at him. He was surprised that Ron didn't stop him, though the red head seemed occupied with muttering things like, '_no, its impossible_', '_she can't be_', '_we checked'_, '_we went back for her_', '_he told us_', '_he told us she was_ _dead_', '_if she's alive…_', '_she can't be_'…

Harry's entire body went rigid, his face pale and loosing color. Theo thought he may pass out...

Theo reached his hands to grip Potter's face in his hands, forcing him to look at him.

"This past Christmas—" Theo said firmly. "—in Godric's Hallow… it was just you and her— she wanted to leave your parents something beautiful. She conjured a wreath of—"

"—Christmas Roses's." Harry finished for him. The color in his stare returning as he met Theo's intense gaze, causing Theo to let out a breath of relief. Theo shut his eyes, a small laugh escaping him as he nodded and took a step back, releasing Potter's face with reluctance... _remembering the last time he held his face in his hands..._

"Yes…" Theo smiled then. "…she conjured a wreath of Christmas Rose's."

"Ron." Harry said then, turning to him, both wizards appearing hardly able to breath. "He's telling the truth. Hermione—" Harry let out a heart-breaking breath, a tear rolling down his cheek. "—she must be alive. He— He c-couldn't have known that— no one— no one would know that but her—"

Harry turned abruptly to Theo and reached for him, gripping his shirt tightly.

"Where is she? H-How did s-she—"

"She's here." Theo said quickly. He turned and waved his hand above his head towards the place he told Hermione to stay. Harry and Ron turned their gaze with him and watched as a small figure appeared, standing at the top of the small cliff.

"Harry—" Ron said, his throat clearly full of something— guilt— disbelief— "Harry... what if this is a trap? You-Know-Who would know that he could use her against you—"

Theo realized then that Harry didn't seem to care what Ron was saying. He watched as Harry's feet began to move towards the wire gate, all the while Ron was calling after him, '_what if it's a trap_?', '_Harry— We watched her di_e'—

But then both wizards were running towards her. Theo moved to follow after them when he hesitated and noticed the witch seem to lean sideways a bit too far— something wasn't right...

Without another thought Theo apparated to her side and when he arrived he saw the sand beneath her covered in a crimson stain.

"Granger!" Theo shouted, pulling her into his arms. "Fuck— Granger!"

He glanced up to see Harry and Ron running up the slanted hill to join him.

"S-She's passed out— I have to take her to Draco—"

"Malfoy? He's the one who fucking killed her!"

"You don't know what your talking about Weasley! I don't have time for this. He's the only one who can help her—"

"We're going with you!" Harry said quickly, reaching out to hold Hermione. He looked into Theo's eyes with an urgency, a brightness that only Theo had ever seen within Harry Potter's eyes... it was illuminating and breath-taking— "Nott, we're coming with you!"

"Harry— WE CAN'T TRUST HIM— WHAT'S HAPPENING TO HER—" Ron shouted, watching as Hermione began to shake from blood loss.

"DO YOU WANT HER TO FUCKING DIE?" Theo shouted back. "—EITHER YOU'RE COMING OR YOU AREN'T, BUT I REFUSE TO LET HER DIE!"

Harry gripped Theo's arm while he held onto Hermione with his other arm. Theo heard Hermione cough, blood spurting from her mouth.

"THIS IS HERMIONE, RON. I KNOW IT IS!" Harry looked to Theo. "What do we need to do?!"

Ron paused for a moment and Theo gripped his wand tightly, no longer caring one way or the other... "Draco. He's the only one who can save her."

"Take us." Harry said. He glanced over at Ron. "Ron! Come on!"

Theo didn't know if Ron reached out to Harry before he apparted back to the safe house. Honestly, he didn't care. The only thought pulsing through his mind was getting Hermione back to Draco, _alive…_


	14. Enemies & Explanations (pt I)

**Chapter Inspiration**

"The sun inside of her

rages like wildfire and she is golden,

gold,

gold,

gold,

and she is

scorching the skin of my heart,

yet still she pretends

that she is safe for me to love,

that her hands are gentle,

that her fingertips won't be

seared into the notches of my spine.

The sun inside of her

could set the kingdom ablaze;

she knows this, she does.

and she still asks me to love her,

to face the flame—

_Find me in the Ashes_."

— Emily Palermo, _Apollo_

* * *

**Chapter Playlist**

_Sweat : RY X_

_Revival : Echos_

_Wait For Me : Luca D'Alberto_

_Hurts Like Hell : Fleurie_

_Landfill : Daughter_

_We Must Be Killers : Mikky Ekko_

_My Door : Dan Hyde_

* * *

Standing upon the small cliff looking over the cottage Hermione felt overwhelmed with panic as she watched Harry and Ron duel with Theo. Her feet had already started moving, but after two steps she was immediately stuck in place. She tried pushing through the invisible barrier once more and groaned in frustration. _Bloody Nott…_

It was then that she felt something warm dripping down her wrist, like a thousand hot needles were slowly raking across her skin. She gasped as her eyes trailed down to the crisp white sand below her, now spotted with blood. She opened her mouth to scream, but she was immediately silenced by the pounding pressure in her head. Another wave of pain shot through her veins, starting from her arm and pulsing outward. The image of the red sphere and black tendrils appeared somewhere in the recesses of her mind, and she imaged the black tendrils were now stretched all the way across the sphere— consuming her.

There was a tugging on her veins she had never felt before, more intense than the curse had ever proven possible, as if someone was slowly pulling them from beneath her bones and skin, like a muggle magician with ribbons, never-ending, pouring out of thin air. She hadn't realized she had shut her eyes until the moment she tried to open them and was met with the frantic emerald colored eyes of Theo.

"Granger—"

She felt her body being pulled up._ Had she fallen? _Her thoughts were immediately silenced by her own cry of pain, she was shaking, or being shaken. _Was she being taken somewhere? _She forced her eyes to focus on something, she saw green once more, except not the green of Theo's dark gaze, but a bright green that only ever belonged to one person—

"Harry…"

She wondered if he could hear her. She thought she could hear him saying her name. She thought of only him, forcing herself to try and ignore the pain, but it didn't work and a moment later everything was black, and Harry was gone.

* * *

Pansy examined the large, curled bicorn horn in front of her for another moment before tossing it into the cauldron. She was standing across from Draco as he continued to work next to Daphne, both of them buried in concentration. She felt oddly comforted knowing they were both safe, the two people she cared about more than anyone else. She thought if there was ever a moment she wanted to remain in, that it may be this one. Smiling at the thought she considered everything Draco had just revealed to them.

Although she had always suspected Draco to have a spark of interest in Granger she was mildly surprised to find that spark had been flamed into a roaring fire. He never outright told her this, of course, but it was difficult to miss as she listened to the way he talked about her and told them his reasoning for deciding to find Potter.

Pansy had known Draco her whole life and not once had he ever seemed so immensely cross, so intent on holding back, protecting himself and the words he chose to voice in regards to a witch. She was not blind to the fact that Draco had not yet admitted how much he cared for her, not even to himself. She felt a slight tinge of pity for him, remembering how deep a burden that could be as she glanced at Daphne. She wondered if she had the chance to change them ever being bitten, would she? — if it meant Pansy was still stuck longing for something she was too much of a coward to believe herself worthy of…

It was then, as she watched the two of them working together, consumed with the warmth of knowing she would do anything to protect them that she found herself wondering just what it would take to do that. Placing her knife down with a hard 'smack' caused Draco and Daphne to glance over at her, both with confused interest.

"I've had a brilliant and completely mental idea—"

Daphne blinked over at her, crossing her arms with an amused expression laced over her features. "Don't we usually leave those sorts of ideas to our dear Theodore?"

"Valid observation." Draco muttered pointing his knife at Daphne confirming his agreement, though his gaze remained concentrated on dicing his hellbore and placing it into the cauldron.

"Well, we're planning to deflect, are we not?" Pansy asked, eyeing Draco, accepting his silent nod as a conformation to continue. "Well I for one would prefer to fight for a winning team and I've had an idea to up our chances, strategically speaking it would change everything, if we can even do it that is, but it's definitely worth considering—"

"Very interested in hearing what you're on about…" Draco drawled lazily, making Pansy aware that she had been rambling. She glared at him and then flicked her bangs from her face, lifting her chin as a devious smile creeped across her face, which seemed to capture his attention as he had then set his knife down as well, waiting.

"The new recruits…" Pansy leaned forward. "Most of them are hardly older than sixteen. They're terrified of refusing Greyback. I've overheard a few conversations during training, they don't want to fight for Greyback, pretty sure they hate him as much as I do, but — I think if I gave them another option…"

Pansy leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest proudly, recognizing Draco's stunned silence as him actually considering her proposition.

"You think they would be willing to join us? Go against Greyback _and_ the Dark Lord?" Draco asked, slightly uncertain if he believed this as a viable option.

Pansy shrugged, "It's worth considering, don't you think?"

"Couldn't hurt." Daphne glanced up at Draco, watching him as he kept his gaze down on the ingredients before him. He leaned forward, placing his palms on the countertop, remained like that for several moments before she began to see him slightly nod, his pale hair bouncing with the movement. When he glanced up at Pansy, a slight smirk was on his features.

"It would certainly give us the upper hand on the Dark Lord…" He said, "How prepared are they for battle? Have you seen them fight?"

"Most of them have only experienced basic dueling from their schooling. Greyback has been more focused on their physical capabilities, though I know more than half of them still practice magic. They prefer their human forms— I think, as the other can be… unpredictable."

Draco nodded. "If we are really considering this then we'll need to start recruiting as early as next nightfall… are you able to gather them without Greyback catching wind of it?"

"I think so." Pansy nodded confidently, but she didn't miss the pointed look of concern radiating from Draco's piercing grey stare. "Draco— I know you think I'm some delicate flower, but I was the first of the new recruits— they respect me—"

"No. I know. I know." Draco shook his head, his shoulders slumping slightly as he released a long sigh. "I just—"

"He doesn't want you in danger. Neither do I." Daphne said, moving to stand near Pansy and lacing her fingers in hers. "I'll come with you. If they see you already have someone on your side it could help sway the more indifferent recruits."

Pansy was silent as she studied Daphne's eyes, searching them for some proof that she deserved the type of loyalty the girl in front of her was giving.

"Have I mentioned how much I bloody adore you?" She half whispered, half sighed, leaning her forehead to rest on Daphne's. She heard her release a small laugh before leaning up to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

Pansy inhaled deeply, nodding over at Draco. "We're doing this, then?"

She saw something flicker on his features, a twitch of an emotion, and it caused her to truly focus on how different he seemed now. Normally he was so well crafted at hiding his emotions. So well that she hardly ever knew what was happening inside that perfectly brilliant head of his. She used to envy him for being able to remain indifferent, but she supposed she knew better than anyone how untrue the facade was. Eventually, Draco nodded and when his eyes met hers again there was a spark of something, an excited fire blooming into something— odd, it almost looked like hope. _When had he developed an understanding for that?_ she wondered.

"We're doing this then." He repeated, looking slightly proud of her. She couldn't help but smile back. "However many you manage to convince to join us can be brought here, but be discrete. Obliviate those who refuse. We can't have word getting back to the Dark Lord or we're all dead. We'll want to train them properly. If you and Daph are up for it, you can cover the wolf bits while Blaise, Theo and I focus on spell work, defense focused of course, as most of them I'm certain have never fought dark wizards before... they won't have enough time to learn effective offense spells, but having them on defense simply for numbers sake should count for something—"

"Do you smell that?" Daphne said suddenly, standing alert and moving across the room. She glanced at Pansy who was now alert too, her nose in the air. They both glanced over at Draco, speaking at the same time, "Blood."

Draco was glaring down at his singlet ring, it seemed to be glittering with magic,_ a warning…_

Pansy watched all the color drain from Draco's face as he shot to his feet, sprinting past them both. Neither of them would have heard him if they hadn't had the ability to hear things usual witches and wizards could not, but hear it they did and it caused a piercing panic to strike through her heart, hearing how desperately hysterical Draco sounded as the name dripped from his lips.

"_Hermione._"

* * *

He should have expected this. He felt, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he knew he deserved this— this punishment of righteous fury alighting his core at the sight before him. It felt the way betrayal tasted, bitter; knocking the breath out of you until you no longer know if it's worth attempting to find your breath ever again— though ragingly prominent as the fury may be at seeing Potter and Weasley, there was an emotion far more abounding than any fury or rage, far deeper than any fear, it caused him so much pain that he was certain there wasn't even a word to describe how terrified he was the moment his eyes landed on Hermione's unconscious blood-covered form in Theo's arms. It was the nightmare he had imagined walking into every time he returned to his room in those first few weeks of her laying unconscious in his bed, desperate for her to wake, just to remind himself that he hadn't let her die—

"Dra—"

Before Theo could properly finish calling him Hermione's body was already shifted into his arms. Theo was speaking. He was explaining something—

_She wanted to go after them—_

_Couldn't let her go alone—_

_She didn't tell me she was in pain—_

_Brought her back the moment—_

_Lost so much blood already—_

Theo's words hardly settled into recognition as Draco disapparated away from the blurred faces, appearing again somewhere— he wasn't sure— the only thing he was sure of was the weight of her body in his arms. Then he was laying her down on a bed, and ripping the sleeve of her shirt open, revealing the source of blood dripping from her forearm.

"PANSY—" He managed to croak out. "—THE POTIONS—"

He vaguely felt the presence of others racing into the room behind him, but they were easily drowned out as he began to trace his eyes across Hermione's skin. Her veins were black, forming intricate patterns.

_DRACO! MAKE IT STOP— LUCIUS— PLEASE— JUST LET IT KILL ME— JUST KILL ME!_

Draco shut his eyes tight forcing himself to control his breathing and shoving his mothers pleading cries from that painful memory to the back of his mind. _He could do this. He could do this. He's done it before. _

"PANSY!" He shouted again, ripping the rest of Hermione's shirt open to see how far the curse was spreading, he had to stop it before it got to her heart. The black tendrils were entirely visible through her pale skin, stretching from her forearm all the way to her shoulder, spreading more rapidly than he had seen with his mother. He felt a deep fear in the pit of his stomach realizing the curse was effecting Herminoe with more force. "PANSY!"

He saw an array of vials being dumped on the bed beside Hermione's body. He grabbed the dark blue substance, knowing it would wake her, he prepared himself for her screaming, placing the vial to her lips and gently tilting her head back to allow the liquid to pour into her mouth. He replaced it with another vial, hoping it would work quickly to numb most of the pain as he began the extraction process, though from his memories of his mother's experience the potions only seemed to halt the pain for a brief period before overwhelming her all at once.

"Theo, the silver Tass— in the kitchen— I need it!"

"W-WHAT'S HAPPENING TO HER?!"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER?!"

Draco wasn't sure which of them were shouting louder, Potter or Weasley as they repeated the same idiotic questions as he continued to prepare for the extraction process. Hermione was slowly waking now, her entire body shaking, convulsing before him. He moved his hands on either side of her shoulders, pinning her down.

"GET THE FUCK OFF HER! YOU'RE MAKING IT WORSE!"

"HERMIONE— HERMIONE! IT'S HARRY— RON— WE'RE HERE—"

Theo appeared a moment later, shoving past them both, placing the round silver Tass on the other side of Herminoe. Draco leaned over her, seeing her eyes fluttering open as a piercing, strangled cry escaped her as she arched her back trying to displace the pain that was surely flowing through her veins.

"I'm going to make it stop. I promise. You're going to be alright. I'm here Granger. I'm here"

Her tear stained eyes landed on his for a moment, her chest rising and falling once. Draco was inches from her face and he thought he saw her nod as her lip quivered, _Draco_— and then her eyes were shut tight as another cry escaped her, the sound forcing Draco back into action. Her entire form was shaking now, desperate to be rid of the pain. He needed her to be still for the next part, but he couldn't stun her, it would prevent the proper blood flow he would need to extract as much of the curse as he could.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING TO HER?! YOU'RE LETTING HER FUCKING DYING!"

The potions were taking to long to settle. He hurried to force another one into her mouth, half of it's contents dripping down the side of her face. Her body twitched and turned and without thinking Draco moved over her, bringing his legs to straddle her, forcing her hips to stop moving.

"THEO— PANS— HER LEGS—"

"CAN'T YOU JUST STUN HER?"

"NO, YOU REPREHENSIBLE FUCK WAFFLE— DRACO KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING— SHUT THE FUCK UP— HELP OR GET OUT!" Theo shouted.

Draco felt her body go slightly more still. Daphne was holding Hermione's left arm down while Potter held her right. Draco glanced up at Potter, their gaze meeting for a split moment; it felt like an understanding passing between them, the intensity in both their rising panic for the witch writhing in pain before them— and then their focus was back on Hermione.

"I need you to try and be still, Hermione." His voice sounded shaky at best, but loud enough for her to hear over her repeated breaths and sobs. He couldn't even focus long enough to try and manage his emotions, there wasn't time. "This is going to be very painful, but I'm going to make the pain stop. Just please, try and be still—"

"Please— make it stop— it hurts— Draco _PLEASE_—" Her eyes opened to his, she inhaled a shaky sob as she struggled against the others restraining her, the sight tearing at his chest.

Draco, now with the help of the others, was able to pull his wand out and grab the silver Tass. He levitated the Tass out before him. He noticed the black tendrils snaking their way over her shoulder, inching further towards her collarbone. Lifting his wand with a new determination he placed it on her skin, directly above the engraved words, gritting his teeth and not knowing who was in more pain, her or him for seeing her like this— _I'm sorry— I'm so fucking sorry—_

A red stream of light appeared from the tip of his wand, he could feel the heat radiating from it as it grazed her skin, stretched along the scar, immobilizing her blood. Her chest jerked forward as a gut-wrenching scream pierced his ears, making him flinch but he never lost his concentration, instead he continued mumbling the incantation that would immobilize her blood, which he knew would feel as if someone was gripping her veins and tugging on them repeatedly with no relief.

"Draco…" It was Pansy's voice who tried to motion to how much crimson liquid was now covering not only the bed below her, but covering his skin as well.

_I KNOW! _He wanted to shout. _I FUCKING KNOW!_

He watched as the pulsing black tendrils began to still. Flicking his wand in the opposite direction he repeated the counter-curse and the black tendrils began to slither away from her collarbone, across the length of her shoulder, and down to her forearm.

Another toe-curling wail tore from Hermione's throat, sounding as if it was vibrating her whole chest, and taking every ounce of her soul to produce the sound. Her body was jerking from the pain, her arm continuously yanking in Daphne's grasp.

Draco, had he been in his right mind, would be grateful it was Daphne holding that particular arm. She was strong. She could handle watching someone in pain, unlike Weasley who was blubbering, as tears streamed down his face with shock. Potter was in a similar state, but his grip was firm, determined to help however he could despite the fact that he was currently helping Draco Malfoy.

"It's almost over—" He heard his shaky breaths repeat to her as the black tendrils flowed out of her scars and landed in the levitated Tass, the silver material soaking up the dark magic and holding it within. He felt a bead of sweat sting his eyes from where it rolled down his forehead, but ignore it. "It's almost over— almost— I promise— stay with me Hermione—"

Hermione's eyes were rolling in the back of her head and then coming open with a flutter as she seemed to have no energy left to cry, or even move— save for the twitching muscles from the prolonged torture she had just endured.

The black tendrils continued to ebb from her porcelain skin, extracting from her forearm, lingering near the tip of his wand as it solicited into a gushing thick substance enough to resemble the matted corse hair from a centaur's tail. He continued directing the substance into the Tass, until the black tendrils resided around the engraved words, and disappeared back into her skin, still present but no longer visible. If he kept pulling at the curse she wouldd surely loose enough blood to kill her.

Hermione was hardly conscious now. Her quiet sobs continued shaking her small body beneath Draco. He avoiding looking at her face. He couldn't let himself see the evidence of how much pain she had just been through, not again—

He waved his wand over the scar, mobilizing her blood flow again, and healing her as much as he could. He leaned back on his heels, feeling his own breaths shaking his body as well. He nodded over at Daphne for her to take the floating Tass, his own hands shaking now, not trusting himself not to drop its contents. He reached for the remaining potions and focused on giving them to Hermione, forcing his shaking hands to stay level. Once she had swallowed what she could Draco shifted off of her, and sat on the edge of the bed, watching her struggled breaths as she fell into unconsciousness, the small rise and fall, the rhythm calming his racing heart and the anxiousness bubbling into dread at what could have happened if he hadn't gotten to her in time—

"Draco…"

He felt Pansy's hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing it, but he didn't turn to look at her.

"Draco, what can we do?"

The question seemed to pull him out of his catatonic state of numbness, realizing that she hadn't been the only one speaking to him. Glancing at Hermione one last time, ensuring that she was breathing, he stood to his feet, taking a step back. Across from him, Potter and Weasley were both moving to her side, sprouting questions at him. He didn't hear a single word. He took another step back until he was leaning against the wall, needing the support, his fist curled tightly near his chest in his shirt— his shirt, covered in blood— _her_ _blood_—

He wanted to vomit.

"What happened to her?" Potter was asking, fear and tears flowing from him as he searched Draco's unfocused gaze. "Malfoy— we need fucking answers!"

Draco's gaze came into focus once more, where he was once watching Hermione's chest rise and fall, he was now focused on Weasley's large sweaty hand laced in Hermione's while his other stroked her forehead.

He was definitely going to vomit.

Had Draco's mind been any state to argue he would have shouted back— he would have asked them how the fuck they even got here— why Hermione was even in this state— he would have demanded they get the fuck out so he can think a proper fucking thought in silence—

"She needs a bit of time to recover. We should leave Draco to tend to her. Theo, Daph, and I can answer whatever questions you have—" Pansy started, but Ron scoffed.

"Leave her with him? Not a bloody chance! I'm not leaving her side! He did this to her—"

"HE SAVED HER FUCKING LIFE—" Theo shouted back.

"I'M NOT TRUSTING ANY OF YOU FOR A MINUTE— ESPECIALLY NOT SOME PATHETIC COWARD LIKE YOU—"

"CALL ME A COWARD ONE MORE TIME YOU INTOLERABLE ASS PASTRY AND I WILL INVERT YOUR FUCKING RIB CAGE—"

"YOU ARE A FUCKING COWA—"

"Ron."

Draco's eyes darted up at hearing Potter speak up. Potter kept his gaze on Draco's for a brief moment, not conveying much of anything really… it wasn't a look of understanding or hatred or gratefulness or pity— nothing— Potter looked empty.

"She's alive…" Potter's gaze flicked to Hermione's face, lingering there for several moments, his gaze no longer empty— and that's when Draco's mind seemed to click back on, and he heard it… Potter's fragile voice from Bill's memory—

_It's my fault — 'Mione — It's a-all my f-fault — I'm s-so s-sorry 'Mione—_

Draco recognized the expression on Potter's face, the emptiness, the grief that consumes you from failing to protect those you love most—

Potter tore his gaze away and glanced back to Ron's. "Hermione's alive. Isn't that more than enough, right now?"

Ron looked stunned, his mouth hanging open, as he considered his best friends response.

"I'm not going anywhere Harry." Ron sounded desperate, voice cracking with almost every word. "We j-just go her back…"

Harry only nodded at him and then turned to Draco. "We're staying with her."

The words crept across Draco's skin, slowly shaking loose his tight grip on the fear he had being try to suppress, now it was erupting inside his chest like the aftershock of an earthquake. He wanted to feel hallow again… the way he felt before Hermione Granger ever bled on his drawing room floor.

He hadn't realized he had closed his eyes until he opened them and settled on Hermione's face, overcome with a burning need to be close to her_—_

He wanted to lower himself on the bed and lay beside her... place her head over his chest so that she would feel his warmth and know he hadn't abandoned her— keep her lips close to his skin so he could make sure she was still breathing— wrap himself so firmly around her to keep her together…

He needed to keep her together so he wouldn't fall apart—

But he couldn't.

_Tell me, Draco… have you considered what happens when you free Miss Granger and she is no longer your prisoner…?_

As his eyes settled on Weasley's clammy hand in Hermione's he felt Snape's words slice through him again.

_Fuck, did he want to feel hallow again_, but no matter how desperately he tried to shield the heart shattering emotions of what it felt like to know she would rather wake up to Potter and Weasley than him, he couldn't get rid of the gaping hole in his chest—

"Draco…"

He turned to see Pansy watching him, her eyes searching his.

"What can we do?" Daphne asked from beside him.

He cleared his throat, ignoring Potter and Weasley as he inhaled a deep breath, forcing himself to gather whatever slither of pride he still had left for looking so fragile in front of the two insufferable gits.

"She'll need another round of potions when she wakes." He said, keeping his gaze on Hermione.

"It's worse than it was with your mother, isn't it?" Theo asked, causing Draco to glance over at him, where he stood behind Potter. Draco didn't move, he was afraid that if he did then what Theo was saying would be true.

"What's worse? Can someone please just tell us what's happening to her?" Potter demanded, turning to look at Theo.

Theo glanced over at Draco, as if to ask for permission. Draco nodded.

As Theo began to explain the curse and what happened to Hermione after they escaped the Manor, Pansy lowered her voice and stood next to Draco.

"Hey… if you want me to kick these fuckers out just say so. Theo still has their wands."

Draco shook his head. "No. She'll want to see them when she wakes up."

Pansy nodded, not missing the hint of sadness in his tone. "Alright, well, at least take care of yourself then. You look ill, not to mention covered in blood. Go clean up. I know you don't want to leave her side either, but I'm afraid what will happen if you keep glaring at Weasley's hand in hers for another second. I won't stop you, of course, but I'm not so sure Granger would appreciate waking up to an armless Weasley at her side." Pansy nudged Draco, forcing him to pull his attention from the sleeping witch. "Draco… go. I'll stay with Granger and come find you the moment she wakes… yea?"

"Yea," he eventually nodded, "...yea, alright."

As Draco strode out of the room he felt the inevitable magnetic pull he always felt whenever Hermione was near him, pulling him back, demanding his feet turn around and remain by her side, but he ignored it— certain the pain in his chest at seeing her with Potter and Weasley was ten times worse than the longing he felt to be near her.

* * *

Theo glanced towards the door where Draco was exiting the room, noticing his shoulders slumped slightly forward and his skin extremely pale save for the scattered blood along his arms. He looked exhausted and Theo couldn't help but wonder how much the extraction spell had taken out of him as well. He was grateful Pansy noticed it to and had forced him to go rest. He glanced over at where she was sitting near Daphne, both of them sat across the room in a lounge chaise on the opposite side of where Granger lay.

In front of him, Potter and Weasley were listening to his every word, throwing question after question towards him, questions like…

_How did you two find us then? Why did you two come alone?_

To which Theo had to explain, in brief detail, of kidnapping Goblins, Hermione kidnapping him and stealing his wand— which enticed both wizards to smile fondly at the sleeping witch.

And more questions like…

_He saved her and lied to You- Know -Who? Why would Malfoy do that? He's been keeping her a prisoner in his room all this time?_

To which Theo had no reasonable explanation to give that was his to tell, they'd have to ask Draco, and they seemed passively accepting considering their next several questions involved how the curse worked and how serious it was.

After what felt like hours of answering their questions about the curse, where Hermione has been staying all this time both, why Luna and Ollivander were here, the wizards seemed slightly less on edge than when Draco was in the room. Weasley eventually turned back to Hermione, never once letting go of her hand, and settled into the chair at her bedside, watching her sleep. As soon as Theo exited the room he glanced across the large open hall towards the arched window, moonlight now drifting in. He took one step towards the stairs in hopes to find Draco and check on him when felt someone's grip on his forearm. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

He turned around to find Harry inching the door slightly ajar and dropping his grasp from Theo's arm. Theo crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head to the side expectantly. Harry took a step closer, keeping his voice hardly above a whisper.

"Nott, wait…"

"Yes Potter…?"

Harry seemed uncertain as to why he had come after him as he glanced around the hall.

"I still have more questions."

"About Hermione or something else…?" Theo asked, slightly proud that he was able to make Harry look even more uncomfortable.

"About— About all it of— Hermione, Malfoy, about where the hell we even are right now…"

"Pretty lavish, isn' it? Set it up myself. Welcome to Theo Nott's Safe House, where traitors come to anxiously await their doom—"

"Nott…" Harry took another step closer. This time Theo was the one to stiffen with uncertainty. "I just found out my best friend has been alive for weeks and that Draco Malfoy was the one who saved her. I'm not exactly interested in jokes right now."

Theo lowered his chin slightly to look directly into his eyes, "Then what are you interested in Potter…"

"I'm not even sure anymore…" Harry shook his head, letting out a soft laugh that sounded more hopeless than amused, reminding Theo how hallow Harry had looked back at the cottage.

Theo was certain he couldn't fathom how much he had lost, how much he had been forced to sacrifice… No longer was the animated, curious boy from forth year— the one Theo would catch smiling nervously over at him as they wandered the school grounds together at night. Replaced was an emptier, darker version of that same boy, consumed with guilt and the pressure to save the wizarding world…

There was a small spark in Harry's eyes after realizing Hermione was alive, but it vanished just as quickly after watching her in so much pain. The sight of Harry Potter looking so vulnerable, right within reach, awakened something in Theo, giving him the small ounce of courage to close the inch of space between them. He curled his right finger placing it under Harry's chin, forcing him to meet his stare as he placed his other hand on his waist, curling around to the small of his back, pulling him closer. As Harry's entire body tensed Theo was reminded of the last time Harry allowed him this close…

* * *

**_Flashback_**

_Hogwarts: Black Lake_

**_4th Year_**

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised to find you wallowing all alone out here Potter…"

Harry stood to his feet, wand raised until he recognized the person striding towards him. Theo smirked as Harry lowered his wand and returned to starring out at the Black Lake.

"Come to tell me I don't deserve to me a Champion too, I predict? Same as everyone else…"

"Do I strike you as someone who so easily conforms to others ideologies, Potter?" Theo asked, moving to stand beside him. "I would hope you didn't think me so predictable."

"What does it matter what I think of you?"

Theo felt the corner of his mouth smirk as he tilted his head to look over at Harry. He was still starring over the Black Lake, the moonlight sparkling across the lake and reaching over to him, as if it was as pulled to the intriguing wizard as strongly as Theo was.

"You're right, I don't care what anyone thinks of me—" Theo leaned his shoulder against Harry's, "—nor should you."

Harry turned to narrow his eyes at him and Theo shrugged.

"Fuck 'em— all of 'em. They're just jealous or don't have brains enough to think for themselves— and when you win the Tri-Wizard Tournament they'll all look like a group of abominable shit leeches, begging for your attention."

This got Harry lips to slightly smirk as he regarded Theo and repeated, "Abominable shit leeches?"

Theo smirked back, momentarily caught off guard by the fluttering in his stomach at the sight of Harry smiling at him. Eventually Theo managed to clear his throat, glancing down at his shoe digging into the dirt.

"So… out here pondering the meaning of life or hoping you figure out a way to not die during the first task?"

"Both, I suppose…" Harry sighed, "… and you, pondering the meaning of life, I'd suspect?"

"Nah, I've accepted there isn't one."

Harry laughed, the sound forcing Theo to curl his fingers into tight fists by his side, hoping to control the urge to reach out to him.

"'Suppose it doesn't matter if I survive the first task or not then…"

Theo wasn't sure if it was the three glasses of firewhisky he chugged in the common room with Blaise before wandering out here, or the odd comfort he found under the blanket of darkness and the moon, that gave him the courage to say what he did next, but he figured if there was ever a time to tell the boy you've admired since you laid eyes on him that you cared whether he lived or died then this night seemed like a good opportunity for it— all things considering.

"I actually came out here to check on you."

Harry turned to face him completely then, dropping his arms by his side, looking slightly unprepared to respond. Theo kept his gaze out over the lake.

"I— um, I saw how everyone was reacting to your name being pulled from the goblet and I— I 'suppose I just wanted to make sure—"

"Why?" Harry asked, slightly breathless. His once guarded expression had lifted into curiosity.

Theo turned to him, swallowing nervously he took a step closer. Harry tensed at the proximity, but he didn't step back. Instead he lifted his chin slightly, meeting Theo's intense gaze, nervously licking his lips. Theo's eyes followed the motion and he took another step closer, closing the small gap so that his chest was touching his. He wondered if Harry could feel how fast his heart was beating. It was obvious that Harry was conflicted to what was happening. He looked confused and curious, but the tiny fact that he hadn't pulled away gave Theo all the courage he needed to lift his hand to the side of his face, tilting Harry's head back to look up at him.

"Nott…"

Theo swallowed Harry's breath as he hesitantly whispered his name, gently pressing his lips to his, feeling Harry's body slowly release its tension at his touch. Before Harry could pull away Theo pressed himself closer, almost as a challenge, demanding Harry tell him to stop if he didn't want this. When he didn't, Theo walked him slowly backward until Harry's back was against the tree next to them, never breaking their kiss. Harry let out a soft sigh as Theo tilted his head to deepen the kiss, experimentally glossing his tongue over Harry's bottom lip as he pressed his hips forward, pinning him firmly between him and the tree.

Theo felt a shudder run down his spine as Harry's fingers scraped the nape of his neck firmly gripping and burying themselves into his curly dark hair. He was certain Harry could feel how his body reacted to his touch, his hardened length pressed between them. The moment he pressed his hips forward again, hoping for some inch of release or friction from the build up of want aching inside him, he was surprised to feel Harry slowly arch his back, pressing his hips forward in response, like he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be doing this, wasn't supposed to be enjoying the sensation.

Feeling Harry's hesitance, Theo pulled his lips back, hovering just before Harry's, their panted breaths mixing between them. Harry kept his eyes shut tight. Theo hoped it was out a need to linger in the moment and not because he regretted kissing him back and dreaded having to tell Theo—

It was that thought that forced Theo to take a step back, hating the lack of warmth now that he was no longer pressed against the perfect mess of a wizard before him. Harry's bright green eyes opened and he only starred at Theo, his chest rising and falling in short breaths. After several agonizing moments Theo could fell his chest tightening with anxiousness for what Harry was about to say, so instead of sticking around to find out he cleared his throat.

"Good luck tomorrow, yea?" Theo mumbled and then forced a twitch of a smile, as he could hardly keep his hands from shaking and lips from quivering from shock at what had just happened, what Harry had actually allowed to happen—

He took a slow step backwards as Harry's opened his mouth, a frown forming on his lips, but Theo couldn't hear whatever he was about to say— good or bad, it was better leaving it like this. It was always better leaving before you allowed someone the power to hurt you—

"And uh— don't die. I would very much hate it if you died."

With that Theo turned on his heel without another glance backwards. He thought he heard Harry call after him, but he didn't stop. He felt the intensity and uncertainty in their kiss, he knew how much power Harry could have over him if he wanted… so he kept walking until he no longer felt the tingling reminder of Harry's lips or the overwhelming need to know what those lips would have said had he not walked away.

* * *

**Present**

_Theo Nott's Safe House_

**Early May…**

"Is this the part where you kiss me and walk away?" Harry asked, his voice void of any emotion.

His vacant tone caught Theo's attention, forcing him to glance from Harry's lips to search his bright green stare within the moonlight. Where Theo once imagined falling into the curious, alluring gaze he now imagined if he did he would hate what he would find; a grey void of hurt and pain and loss... so much loss.

"It can be…" Theo whispered back, gliding his fingers towards the nape of his neck, resting there as he gently grazed his lips next to Harry's ear, shutting his eyes and inhaling a slow breath. Harry still hadn't moved his arms from his sides. Theo gently gripped his ear between his teeth, teasingly pulling it and bringing his eyes back to look down at him then added, "—or it can be the part where I kiss you and you ask me not to…"

Harry lifted his hands then, wrapping his fingers around Theo's wrists, pulling them from his hair and releasing them as he took a step back.

"The same reason I won't ask you that is the same reason you wouldn't stay."

Theo let out a small defeated laugh, dropping his gaze to his feet, nodding. "Yea… 'suppose you're right. Wouldn't have worked then. Wouldn't be smart to try now."

"It could have." Harry said. "You walked away."

Theo said nothing. They stared at one another for several long moments, letting the weight of the truth settle between them. It was strange how the possibility of 'what could be' hurt more than what did…

"Theo— what's going on? I saw blood in the foyer—" Blaise was coming up the stairs quickly and stopped abruptly as Theo turned around, revealing who he had been talking to. "Potter?"

"Zabini." Harry said plainly.

Theo sighed and nodded at Blaise to join him down stairs, turning away from Harry. "Come on Blaise, let's have a fucking drink, yea?"

Blaise muttered something along the lines of '_I leave for six fucking hours and shit somehow gets worse…_'

Theo paused deciding whether or not to glance over his shoulder, knowing he was opening himself to the pain of seeing Harry watch him walk away again, but when he looked to where Harry was once standing no one was there; and that, he realized, hurt far, far worse.

* * *

A cool breeze and the stretch of stars blanketing the night sky accompanied Draco as he sat on the steps of the Safe House's entrance. He ignored the chill filtering across his skin as his eyes scanned the vast horizon before him, attempting to differentiate the dark empty field's ending and the dark sky's beginning. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting out here, but he welcomed the silence. It allowed him to consider what was happening to his magic and his ability to Occlude. He used to practice strengthening his abilities by searching the constellations in the sky. Normally, right before his lessons with his mother and Snape. So that's what he forced himself to do in hopes to avoid thoughts involving Hermione, her blood, Weasley's hand in hers, Potter's lifeless eyes—

Draco scanned the bright blanket of stars stretching as far as the field. He focused on the constellations, every time he identified one he searched for a vine deep within his mind and shifted another memory within his labyrinth— challenging his mind like a seeker practiced chasing a snitch…

"Cygnus…" He muttered to himself.

_She will never be yours—_

Inhaling deeply, Draco searched the night sky, failing to ignore the unavoidable thoughts replaying in his mind. Snape's voice resounding louder than the rest.

He threw his head back and laughed at the stars, not even they were allowing him the distraction he so desperately needed. He knew Hermione had gone after them the moment Theo stumbled through the door with her in his arms with Potter and Weasley following right behind. At the time it didn't seem to matter— All that mattered was saving her— but now, her choosing Potter and only returning because she was an inch from death was all he could think about…

_The moment Miss Granger is free to do as she pleases she will leave you behind and return to Potter without a second thought—_

His skin burned with a righteous fury, despite the chilling breeze, and he couldn't help but wonder if his growing feelings for her was some kind of sick punishment— for hoping to hold someone so much brighter than him. He wondered if he was condemned to an eternity of knowing she would always be just out of reach…

"Scorpius…" He muttered to himself as he spotted another constellation, failing to distract himself.

"Hydrus…"

His chest ached from attempting to contain his need to release a breath. He could feel the imprint of his ribs cage on the underside of his skin, expanding the cavern inside, begging for release. He feared what kind of sob would escape him if he exhaled. It was so fucking miserable not being able to hide himself behind his Occlumency shields. He fucking despised _feeling_.

That was the thing about repressing one's emotions for so long with Occlumency, he thought, after a while you get so comfortable in the numbness— not realizing the moment you let them creep back in the repressed pain will flood back in too…

"Orion…" He gritted out, allowing a ragged breath to escape his lips, pretending the disappointment of living wasn't still residing in his throat.

"Corpus…"

He knew many wizards have surrendered their grip on reality, their sanity, in hopes to never let the pain return…

He heard his father's voice then, cringing at the memory forcing itself to the forefront of his mind, shoving his palms to his eyes hoping to be rid of his father's vine completely, for it was the heaviest of them all—

_To be mad in a world filled with pain is a lesser consequence than to be sane in an unrelenting world determined to make you feel it… _

Draco scoffed to himself, feeling a warm liquid trail down his face and quickly wiped it away with the back of his sleeve.

"Fuck!" He breathed out tossing his head back, his chest and shoulders trembling with the need to release the built up torture within. He found no more tears came, only a false and empty laugh of disbelief at his utterly broken mind—

Draco knew that it was all Hermione Granger's fault. It was her doing— forcing him to loose control over his shields whenever he was near her or his thoughts lingered on her for too long— making it feel like there's a fire settled in his lungs, his throat's consumed with smoke and every chance he gets to breath he's reminded that he doesn't deserve to—

_He doesn't fucking deserve to—_

Another soft laugh escaped him as he shook his head, dropping his stare from the night sky to his feet.

"Draco…"

Draco's eyes shot open as he gripped his wand firmly by his side, darting to his feet and turning to see bright blue eyes blinking down at him and wild blonde hair blowing in the cool breeze, her head tilted slightly as she stood on the top stair before the Manor's entrance. Draco thought she could have easily been an angel with the moonlight illuminating over her pale skin and piercing her blue eyes, causing them to radiate an odd sparkle that seemed to settle Draco somehow…

"Have the stars said something amusing?"

Draco settled his racing heartbeat and sighed, not sure if he was grateful if it was her who stumbled upon him in such a fragile state or not. He didn't even attempt to answer her as his knees gave and he returned to his sitting position. Without missing a beat, Luna moved down the two steps and sat next to him, smiling up at the stars.

"My father thought them funny, too, but I find their humor quite crass. I much prefer the sentiments that come with the daytime…"

"Hmm…" Draco hummed, keeping his gaze forward. He'd spent enough time with Luna back in the dungeons to know she didn't need him to actually speak to feel heard. They sat in silence for several minutes, it was comfortable for a time, and then she broke it in her perfectly artful way, lacking any delicacy— a trait Draco found, to his surprise, oddly refreshing.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow morning."

This caught Draco's attention and he turned to look at her.

"Leaving? Leaving where?"

"Glasgow Necropolis." She said simply, slowly bring her gaze to his, then noticing his furrowed brow of confusion, elaborated. "It's a graveyard."

"I'm certain I'll regret asking this but— any particular reason you feel compelled to visit a graveyard all of a sudden?"

"My father's there." She turned her attention back to the sky. "Or he will be when I arrive. It's where we agreed on meeting in case we were ever separated and our house was no longer an option…"

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling it grow as he considered what would happen if she showed up and her father never showed… he tried to remember her father in any of Voldemort's prisoner camps, but couldn't.

"Then I plan to return to Hogwarts."

"Look Lovegood," Draco said quickly, attempting to remain light even though he knew she wasn't fragile.

"Hogwarts— It's not the place you left, you know? It's not the same."

She remained quiet. Draco wondered if she even heard him, but before he could repeat himself she turned her bright blue gaze on him, revealing a determined glint behind her eyes.

"Neither am I."

He felt as if someone stunned him. He wasn't sure what to make of the witch next to him. She seemed unbothered and entirely convinced in her conviction and need to return to the castle. He decided to say nothing as he considered her words.

"How's Hermione feeling?"

Draco's chest tightened and he shifted his stare from hers. He swallowed the desire to laugh again, of course she would bring up the one topic that forced him to spiral down a never ending tunnel of discomfort.

"I overheard Theo telling Blaise what happened." She explained further. "I also noticed the warmpgrindles hovering by the door on my way out. The yellow ones belonged to her, but they sensed you were near I think. It makes since now—" She nodded to something above him, "—why you have so many. Yours must have been tangling themselves with Hermione's all this time."

She tilted her head to the side, studying him, and he turned to see her squinting her eyes slightly, adding airily, "…so many emotions between you two."

Draco clenched his jaw, not trusting himself to speak.

"Oh, I see…" a dreamy smile spread across her gentle features, "You're still pretending you don't care for her."

"What? Lovegood, I'm not— You don't—"

"It's alright…" she turned her gaze upward, ignoring his inability to speak, "…so is she."

He forced his eyes shut, inhaling a deep breath to save himself from shouting at the oblivious, yet observant witch for being so infuriatingly attune to whatever nonsense she was saying; though he envied the witch for her sense of clarity.

"Look, Granger— She's not— we're— she's going to live which is all that matters. Alright? Can you just—" He shut his mouth, sensing his frustration decrease as her dreamy eyes glanced to his. Then he sighed.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remain mad at the witch. He felt she was just— too damn impenetrable— like nothing he said would ever phase her, which certainly made conversations with her difficult for him because he usual wound up saying more than he intended. He couldn't respond to what she just said. He couldn't. Because then that would mean he still thought Hermione would choose him over Potter, and that was— no, _he_ was just fucking pathetic for even considering the possibility—

"I'm going to miss this place." Luna said, not missing a beat and either oblivious to his inner turmoil or choosing to ignore it. "There were so many lovely creatures in the attic... Oh, that reminds met—" Her eyes found his once more. "I forgot to mention it while you were wrestling the Goblins, but perhaps when you return to Hogwarts I can tell you some of my ideas for repurposing your dungeons. The environment is perfectly suited to host Crumple-Horned Snorkack eggs, but only in the winter, of course. The draft down there would ensure their scales don't develop prematurely."

Draco couldn't stop himself from shaking his head and letting a much needed laugh escape him. When he looked over at her the image of her frail body laying on the dungeon floor slithered from one the vines, along with the silver necklace she wore the night of his mothers many recruitment gatherings. He shoved the memory away and his eyes trailed down to her dainty neck now, feeling a small sense of relief flooding him, knowing she would never be forced to put it on again.

He felt his chest expand. Her simple way of distracting him relaxed his mind better than his failed attempts with his constellations, allowing his shields to form once more. He smiled over at her, nodding.

"Yea, one day we can discuss a dungeon makeover."

He wasn't unaware to how absurd that sentence sounded.

"And we'll need to discuss the best time for me to start our list." She continued. "I've found spring to be the best time for spotting flying seahorses and the Chupacabra's often linger around the same lakes in Ireland…"

She went on for several more minutes, explaining her strategies to locate the various creatures Draco had offhandedly made her promise she would find to prove him they were real.

During their conversations in the dungeons he found she was most relaxed when she was explaining the bizarre creatures she mentioned so he demanded they start to keep a list, and one day she could cross each of them off, one by one, after the war was over...

He focused on the memory, allowing its vine to enter the forefront of his mind. He was surprised to find it pleasantly distracting him.

* * *

In the memory he was leaning on the metal bars between them as she sat against the wall, picking at the tray of food he brought her.

He rolled his eyes with far too much exaggeration. "_Ok, now I'm certain you're just making things up."_

She replied with a tilt of her head towards him._ "Although I have been told on numerous occasions that I have a fairly heightened imagination, Draco, I'm certainly not clever enough to invent the existence of this many creatures."_

Draco scoffed. _"You honestly expect me to believe there are such creatures as a Hoo-Hoo and a Hodag? Who is responsible for naming these atrocious beasts anyway?"_

She paused, thinking for a moment before responding. _"I suppose Americans do lack creativity when it comes to naming their discoveries. I'll be sure to write the Care of Magical Creatures department for further inquiry to whose responsible though, as I'm uncertain it was only one individual—"_

Draco sighed._ "Whatever Lovegood, just add them to the list and move to the next… you mentioned something about Japanese plants?"_

Her posture lifted._ "Oh! Japanese Orchids. It's used to attract a stubborn Imperial Butterfly."_

Draco held back his need to scoff. _"And the non-stubborn ones?"_

Luna frowned. _"Oh, I suppose I wouldn't know. I 've only ever met the stubborn ones."_

* * *

At the time Draco hadn't put much stock into the conversation, instead he only considered it a good distraction for the both of them, never imagining she would ever make it out of his dungeons alive, but here she was…

There was a silver-lining after all he supposed. He felt a lightness in his chest as he listened to her carry on. A rare feeling, one he never allowed himself the misfortune of dwelling on for too long, until that is, he saved Hermione—

It gave him the same light feeling… _hope_.

_What a fucking joke._

He inhaled, forcing himself to focus on Luna instead. He thought of their list and mentally shrugged, maybe they would both survive the war and she would hold true to proving him wrong. It was a rather large _maybe_, but say they both survive— he would have to take her up on their promise… maybe he'd tag along, search the crevices of the earth for creepy crawlies— he shuddered at the mental image, _perhaps not…_

He realized then she had stopped talking and was now comfortably sitting in silence staring at the sky.

"Sure thing Lovegood." He muttered and set his sights on the sky too.

One uncontrollable vine kept creeping from its place within his labyrinth.

Within it contained, first the sound of his own voice, timid and rough: _It's not the same…_ and after, the sound of Luna's reply, unwavering and confident: _Neither am I…_

Tilting his weight back and bringing his hands to cradle his head, he shut his eyes, finally able to silence the raging tornado of thoughts and emotions—

_Neither am I…_


	15. Enemies & Explanations (pt II)

**A/N:** Ok, thank you to everyone who let me know how much you loved the last chapter. I'm excited that you all are excited for the little taste of NottPott as well— something about that pairing has always just made sense to me and it's absolutely delicious to write :) Also, I know this took me longer to post than usual, but this whole life being a chaotic mess has shifted my equilibrium or something because I can't seem to concentrate long enough to finish anything... Last thing! I created something for this story that you can find on my tumblr— I would love to follow you lovely people and know what you guys think!

todayshewrites . tumblr . com

**A/N : **Warning! Dark themes mentioned…

* * *

**Chapter Playlist **

_Maps : Freya Ridings_

_Come Back For Me : Jaymes Young_

_The Way : Zach Hemsey_

_The Few Things : J P Saxe (w/ Charlotte Lawrence)_

_I'm in love with you, sorry : j'san _

_Only : R Y X_

_Set the fire to the third bar : snow patrol _

***for saucy dramione scene {wink, wink} **

_Destroy Me : grandson_

_False God : Taylor Swift_

***for Harry/Theo moment* **

_Always : Gavin James_

_Salt and the Sea : the Lumineers_

_Bad : James Bay_

* * *

Hermione's mind jerked into consciousness much quicker than her body would allow. Her ability to understand that the pain was no longer subdued by sleep came much like lightening— you sense it's coming, but can never be fully prepared for the shock it brings once it appears.

Following the sensation, her body tensed from a soreness she was becoming far too familiar with: head throbing, bones aching, but something was different this time… her hand— it was entirely too warm— _clammy_ with sweat…

It was then that she realized someone was holding her hand, causing her arm to bend at an awkward angle—

She forced herself to sit up, wincing as her body rejected the quick movement, forcing her onto her back once more. She must have groaned or let out some other form of unintelligible cry because the person holding her hand gripped tighter, a blur of red hair coming into focus—

Things still felt and looked odd— hazy and distant, but then she remembered standing on a beaches cliffside, blood on crisp white sand, darkness, and then the pale halo of Draco's hair floating above her…

"Hermione... Oh, Hermione! You're awake! You're really— It's really you. I-I—" Ron released a shaky breath and swallowed a sob as his fingers reached up to graze her cheek, "—I never thought I'd see your face again—"

"Ron…" She breathed out, unable to distinguish if he was real or if she had, in fact, lost too much blood on that beach near the cottage.

_Please let this be real._

"Hermione!"

—that voice she knew without a doubt was real.

She smiled wide over Ron's shoulder, as he was now embracing her as gently as he thought he could without hurting her. She could feel his warm tears on her skin.

"Harry— Ron!" She gasped out, shaking with relief as a tear rolled down her cheek. "You're here— you're really here—"

"Yes." Harry laughed out a chocked sob, frantically nodding his head as he moved to embrace her after Ron. His hug slightly more rough, but she didn't care. She lifted her right arm around his neck, allowing him to slowly pull her into a seated position, his hand wrapped firmly on the back of her head and his own buried in the crook of her neck. She couldn't contain the breathy laugh of disbelief that rumbled from deep within her chest, tucking her chin against his shoulder.

"We're here—" He repeated softly into her hair, "I'm so s-sorry Hermione— I-I'm—" she felt his chest shake against her as he seemed to try and find the right words through his guilt and tears. "— I never wanted to leave you— We tried coming back for you— If we had known you were alive— I'm— Gods, Hermione— I'm so fucking sorry—"

Herminoe squeezed him back tighter, "Don't— please, H-Harry— it's not your fault—" a gentle but joyous laugh erupted from her, lifting her chin to smile over at Ron, gripping Harry's shoulders closer to emphasize how much she meant what she said next, "None of that matters. We're together now— I missed you both so much—"

Ron reached for her right hand as she extended it to him and she squeezed it just as tight as she was holding Harry. Shutting her eyes, she allowed herself to consume this moment, clinging to it for dear life— holding on to her best friends... _her family._

Ron couldn't stop smiling at her and Hermione couldn't help but return the gesture, knowing both of their faces were a tear stained mess. She shifted back to look at Harry and although there was a smile on his face she knew something was off… she could read her best friends face better than any book.

She squeezed his shoulder once and reached for his hand, now holding both of their hands on either side of her, and gave him her best scornful look even though her smile remained.

"You'll stop feeling guilty this instant Harry Potter. I won't have you ruining this perfect moment with your brooding!"

That managed to make Harry genuinely smile as he shook his head.

"I have certainly missed you bossing me around."

Hermione laughed and pulled him in for another hug. She felt Ron's arms wrap around them both.

"I always knew we'd find our way together again…" She mumbled against Harry's shoulder. She pulled back to stare at them again, her left arm still clinging to Harry's and his gaze flickered to her blood stained bandage.

She instinctively wrapped her right hand around the bandage, glancing down at it; her thoughts immediately shifted to the frantic look of desperation on Draco's features as she writhed in pain below him—

_Where was Draco? Did he not want to see her after what she did? Why did his absence make her feel incomplete? How could she possibly feel that way with her two best friends sitting right next to her?_

"Does it hurt? How are you feeling?"

Ron's voice penetrated her whirlwind of thought's concerning Draco and she blinked several times before inhaling a deep breath. She shook her head quickly, feeling even more light-headed, but forcing herself to ignore it.

"'Mione— 'Mione— what's wrong? Are you alright?" Harry asked frantically, forcing Hermione's attention back to the present.

"Oh, sorry I'm— yes. I'll be fine—" she dropped her hand from where she was rubbing her forehead, hoping to displace some of its throbbing. She glanced around the room then, taking in their surroundings. "When did we get back to the safe house— how?"

"You were bleeding out when we got to you. Nott brought us straight here. He said Malfoy was the only one who knew how to stop the bleeding." Harry grimaced and forced himself to continue, "We watched him pull that curse from your arm. You lost so much blood—Hermione— it was— it terrifying— I thought we we're going to loose you all over again…"

Hermione tried to remember something from the night before. Something to remind her what it was like, but all she remembered was the pain , like someone was ripping her veins from her body and Draco's voice promising her that he would make it stop—

_I promise. You're going to be alright. _

She remembered hearing him as her veins were blazing with a pain so deep as she was begging for release; then his voice—

_I'm here Granger. I'm here._

As if her body knew he would save her, a strange calmness flooded her through the pain; even if her mind could focus on nothing else, deep down she knew he wouldn't let her die—

"I don't remember much of it…" Hermione admitted, "… but that doesn't matter— you're both here— I want to know about you two! What happened after the Manor? Where have the two of you been?"

She didn't miss the shared glance between her two best friends, tension growing heavy all of a sudden.

"We've just been hiding out really… at Shell Cottage, where you and Nott found us…" Harry said plainly, offering Hermione a forced smile that she wasn't buying. He glanced over at Ron who was grimacing down at his and Hermione's fingers intertwined. Hermione could sense something off between them, like they didn't want to tell her something—

Harry tilted his head, bringing his green eyes to stare directly into hers, disbelief and a need for clarity clouding them. "Nott told us Malfoy saved you that night…"

Hermione felt her heart flutter at the mention of Draco and she dropped her eyes from Harry's, nervously fidgeting with her fingers in her lap as she nodded.

"Yes… Dra— um, Malfoy… he was supposed to let me die, but he didn't… he managed to keep the curse from spreading too quickly and he, well— I've been with him this whole time. We only recently came up with a plan to search where you went after you left the Manor. It's why I couldn't come for you two sooner."

She slowly lifted her eyes to Harry's, adamant on avoiding Ron's darkened expression beside her.

"He saved my life, Harry." She added softly, a sad smile creeping across her face as she imagined how betrayed Draco must have felt when Theo arrived with her, Harry, and Ron. She forced the guilt down, unable to swallow how miserable the thought of him hating her made her feel—

"Nott described the process to us," Harry said as the corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk, "Kind of ironic, don't you think? Malfoy, cleansing your blood…"

This made Hermione smile, "Yea, I suppose it is."

"He didn't touch you did he? Did he hurt you?" Ron asked gruffly, leaning forward. "I swear Hermione if he laid a fucking finger on you—"

"No—" she countered quickly,"— no, he never hurt me Ron! Gods, no— he was—" she paused then, suddenly uncertain what to tell them. A blush rose to her face as she was immediately reminded of Draco's lips pressed to hers, "—he never hurt me or forced himself— he did absolutely nothing I didn't allow— he only tended to the curse. He helped me find a way to the two of you. He's not what I expected him to be... he's… he's different—"

"Nothing you didn't allow?" Ron repeated, leaning back slightly as he regarded Hermione. "He can't be that different, 'Mione! He's still a bloody Death Eater! We've seen him fight right along side You-Know-Who— how— how could you think he's anything besides the same worthless coward he's always been? Have you forgotten all that he's done—"

"Ron. Hermione is capable of thinking for herself— she's alive and was able to find us because of Malfoy…" Harry sighed, looking defeated as he shook his head and stared at Ron. "Maybe we should be thanking him, don't you think?"

When Ron didn't answer, Harry continued, "I know this is Malfoy— I get that, trust me, I do. I'm not excusing what he's done— I don't understand why he did it, but I honestly don't care— Hermione's here… He kept her alive when we couldn't—"

It was suddenly difficult for Hermione to breath as Harry glanced over at her and offered her a sad smile, laced with so much guilt.

"Harry… you can't blame yourself—" She started, but he shook his head.

"I know. I know." He shrugged. "Habit, I suppose."

She smirked, "Yes, and a nasty one at that…

"I'm sorry…" Ron admitted under his breath and then sighed. Hermione glanced over at him as he said it again. "I'm sorry. Harry's right— It's—" he released heavy breath and offered her a similar sad smile as Harry's, "We thought we'd never see you again and I... It's just really nice having you back."

"I know. It's good to have you two back too."

"But I don't think I can change my mind about Malfoy. I don't trust him 'Mione. And I don't think we should trust that he's truly planning to turn his back on You-Know-Who— last we heard he was replacing his father in his ranks."

"Well then you'll have to trust me and I say that we can." Hermione said, slightly defensive. "Besides he's probably the best chance we have at defeating You-Know-Who."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"You-Know-Who trusts him. He knows things that can help us defeat him…"

"What has he told you?"

Hermione bit her lip nervously, unsure if she was betraying Draco's trust in some way, but decided Harry and Ron would need to find out eventually.

"I think he can help us find the next Horcrux… Don't ask me how I know this because you won't like it, but I know you two sent Bill to Gringotts to get information on Bellatrix's vault." Hermione glanced nervously from Ron to Harry. "I know he sent you a patronus before he was captured—"

"Wait—" Ron said, shoving to his feet to glare down at her. "—does Malfoy have something to do with Bill loosing all his memories?!" When she didn't answer Ron clenched his fits at his side, "Hermione…"

"Look— all I know is that Malfoy's promised to help us get into her vault. If you two sent Bill to look into whose been visiting it then you must have pieced together what I did that night at the Manor, that she very well may be hiding a Horcrux there. Draco is Bellatrix's blood relative and that's the only way in or out— he promised me that Bill was safe— in France—"

"Safe?" Ron said shaking his head with repulsed expression. "'Mione. Bill couldn't even remember mum's name! Malfoy ruined my brother's life—"

"He very well may have saved his life, Ron! Do you know what You-Know-Who does with his prisoners after his use for them is exhausted?"

"Do I—?" Ron scoffed, "Of course I do! I've seen it first hand— and you know what else I saw?! Malfoy! Bloody Malfoy was there one of the nights we tried to free one of mum and dad's friends— he was there and good people died that night because of what he is— who he fights for!" Ron's chest was rising and falling in short bursts. Hermione suddenly remembered the night Draco came into his room covered in blood, a large gash across his neck and flinched as Ron shouted at her, "Our friends and family continue to suffer because of him and the choices he's made—"

"It's not that simple Ron— I thought the same in the beginning, but there's more to it than that— Draco has only ever done what's necessary to protect the people he cares about—"

"_Draco_? " Ron repeated narrowing his eyes at her. Hermione felt the disgust radiating off of him at hearing her calling him by his first name, "What has he done to you 'Mione? Are you— did he fucking tamper with your mind too?!"

"Ron—" Harry tried calming him, moving to stand before him as Hermione tried to force her tears to remain behind her eyes with no success.

"I don't know how you can even stand to look at him 'Mione! HE'S A MONSTER!"

"Ron— you're taking this out on the wrong person." Harry said, shoving his friend back against the wall, both hands gripping Ron's shoulders. "This isn't Hermione's fault— it's not even Malfoy's—"

"CHARLIE'S DEAD! My brother is dead!" Ron spat bitterly, shaking his head. "He died protecting us because we were being attacked by Death Eaters! So yea, it is Malfoy's fault because he's ONE OF THEM! YOU MAY HAVE LOST HOPE HARRY, BUT MY FAMILY STILL FIGHTS FOR YOU— BECAUSE THEY BELIEVE IN YOU—"

Ron shoved Harry's arms away and took a few steps back glaring at both Harry and Hermione.

"Ron…" Hermione croaked out. "Ron… I'm sorry. I didn't know— please— just try and understand—"

"I want to—" Ron said releasing a bitter laugh, then shifted his eyes to hers, "— for your sake, I really want to Hermione— but you weren't there—

"And I'm to be punished for that? What would you have had me do, Ron? I spent every waking moment trying to get back to you two." Hermione snapped back. "What aren't you two telling me?"

"You have no idea what it's been like—" Ron cried.

"She's been through more than enough I would think…"

Pansy's demanding voice brought them all to silence as they all turned their sights to where she lingered in the doorway with a tray floating near her, full of an assortment of potions.

Hermione blinked several times as the thin dark haired witch strode into the room, hardly bothered by them starring at her in confusion. She moved to sit next to Hermione, allowing the tray to lay on the side table next to them.

"I think it's best if you two let Granger rest. Yelling at her isn't exactly on the healers suggested how to's for a speedy recovery…"

"And when did you become a certified healer Parkinson? You have the tenderness and nurturing capabilities of a mandrake!" Ron countered.

Pansy inhaled, shutting her eyes with her back to both wizards. When she opened her eyes to regard Hermione, who was still watching her, she lifted a brow.

"I have no idea how you manage dealing with his stupidity— honestly, how often must you explain things to him?"

Not caring if Hermione responded, the witch then twisted her torso to face Ron, her perfectly arched brow still set.

"Granger should have taken these potions the moment she woke and if she doesn't she will begin bleeding out once again and you don't have to be a certified Healer to guess that the stress of your conversation has only further impacted her strength so she'll also need to rest… Now, I let you three have your sentimental reunion, but I've met my quota for blubbering Gryffindors, so you two boys can go make yourself useful down stairs and help Daphne and Theo with the next round of potions while I make sure your precious witch doesn't die. Savvy?"

Both wizards stood blinking at the witch as she turned back around and began reaching for the potions.

Hermione nodded at Harry and Ron, "You two go. I'll be fine."

"Hermione…" Ron said. She could hear the apology laced in his voice, but it still didn't manage to hurt her any less knowing how he truly felt.

"I know." She offered him a small smile. "We can talk later."

Ron hesitated as Harry moved to Hermione's side again, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"We'll be right down stairs if you need us." He said and then began pulling away, but Hermione placed her hands on either side of his shoulders to stop him. She searched his eyes for a moment and lowered her voice so only he could hear, "What did Ron mean when he said you may have lost hope Harry…?"

She noticed his jaw clench as his eyes dropped from hers, but before they did she recognized something strange flicker in his stare.

"Harry…" She said softly and forced his eyes back to hers by placing her finger beneath his chin.

"It's nothing…" He let out a shaky breath, pulling away and moving to stand. He scanned over her face for a moment a small smile forming, "…just focus on getting better."

There was a twisting in her chest as she watched him turn to leave.

"Oh and Potter…" Pansy called over her shoulder as she handed Hermione a blood replenishing potion. "Be a doll and don't inform Draco she's awaken just yet."

"Why not?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Because I asked so nicely." Pansy forced a unnatural smile over at him. "I'll fetch him when I'm done here."

Harry glanced at Hermione.

"I'll be fine, Harry."

Harry nodded and turned to join Ron to leave the room. The moment the door snapped shut Hermione glanced nervously at Pansy, equally uncertain as to why the witch would want to speak to her alone.

* * *

It's not as if she wanted to be the one to break up the three sodding idiots from their more than repulsively affectionate reunion, but after stumbling out onto the front steps to find Draco passed out she determined it was probably best if she let him rest a bit longer. So she had Daphne help her levitate him back inside to the sofa in the common room, and reluctantly grabbed the potions Granger would need from Theo and Blaise— but, of course, not without their own inquisition as to why she wanted to be the one to help Granger when she woke— to which she reminded them she had no obligation to answer to them, and took the potion tray and headed up stairs.

Now, as she sat next to Hermione Granger, she feared she had been to impulsive in her decision making because said witch was regarding her with so much confusion and nervous interest that it made Pansy's skin itch with discomfort.

"It took a lot out of him—" Pansy began to explain, picking up a vial with dark blue liquid in it and handed it over to Hermione. "—pulling the curse out of you. He hardly sleeps so I thought it best not to wake him."

"Oh..." Hermione said, tipping back one of the blood replenishing potions after drinking a numbing potion.

Pansy could already see the witches shoulders visibly relax after moments of the potions setting in. She tried not to think of the amount of blood that poured from her skin only hours ago. The sight caused Pansy to shift slightly as she kept her gaze down on another vial in her lap.

"Have Theo and Blaise gone somewhere?"

Pansy smirked, lifting her gaze to meet Hermione's. "Does my being here bother you Granger?"

"What? No— I just… it's, well, they've been the ones who usually— You don't— what I mean to say is—"

"Relax, Granger." Pansy said rolling her eyes. "I suppose you would find it odd… my being amicable towards you, but no need to look so nervous. I only took it upon myself to deliver your potions because I was hoping we could talk."

"Talk…" Hermione repeated, as if she had never heard the word before.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Granger. You're going to make this intolerable, aren't you? I only wanted to say my peace. Clear the air and all that…" Pansy added with a lazy wave of her hand.

Hermione tipped back another blood replenishing potion, glancing uncertainly towards Pansy.

"Alright… what is it you wanted to say?"

Pansy lifted her chin, hoping to appear calm despite the rising discomfort building in her stomach.

"For starters," She gritted out, feeling every bit of uncomfortable as Hermione looked. "Daphne thought it best to start with an apology."

She watched as the curly haired witch jerked her gaze up, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Surprised?" Pansy lifted her brow, forcing her features to remain passive. "Yes, well that's understandable as well I suppose."

"I, um… what are you apologizing for exactly?"

Pansy waved her hand in the air again, "For you know…"

Hermione waited, lifting a brow expectantly, making Pansy roll her eyes.

She sighed, the words flowing out of her so quickly, "I am apologizing for, you know, everything— I was horrible to you. I constantly made you feel less of a witch and I shouldn't have said or done those things and—" she paused, glancing down at her lap, "—I've recently come to understand what it feels like… to feel like less of a witch that is."

She glanced quickly at Hermione who was blinking uncertainly at her, surely wondering why Pansy felt the need to apologize.

"Look, Daphne and I were talking after we watched you come within an inch of death last night and she reminded me that you probably don't feel very welcome here and for Draco's sake I wanted to let you know that you should… you know— feel welcome, because…" she let out a deep sigh, "…well, you're clever. I'm sure you've pieced it together by now… what I am…"

Pansy felt the weight of her own words, wondering if she would always feel this ashamed to admit who she was— _what_ she was now. As she watched Hermione closely she noticed Hermione was still blinking with uncertainty at her.

"Draco's told you about Daphne and I, hasn't he?"

"Well, no… we haven't really talked about it— I suspected, but…"

Pansy nodded, feeling the rising shame that came when she thought of her and Draco's past— the feeling reminding her why she felt the need to talk to Hermione in the first place. Pansy somehow found her way through it with Daphne and if Hermione happened to be his way through it, well, she wasn't going to allow his inevitable self-loathing to get in the way of that.

"For what it's worth I don't think you less of a witch for being a werewolf…"

Pansy narrowed her eyes at her, not expecting her to continue, but she did.

"…if anything you've only become twice the witch you were. You can preform magic and now you have killer instincts on top of that—" Herminoe shrugged, "I pity whoever chooses to cross you."

Pansy allowed a small smirk to filter on her face, "Of course you would find my being a vicious creature admirable. Do you plan to start a club to protect my rights now too?"

"Perhaps…" Hermione said, allowing herself to return Pansy's smirk. "Doesn't seem like such an awful idea. The Werewolf Registry could certainly be revised… not to mention the Beast Divisions need for reformation in regards to the rights of Werewolves becoming equivalent to the standards set in place for humans—"

"Granger—" Pansy interrupted, placing her hand on Hermione's shoulder to redirect her attention back to her. "It's appreciated, I'm sure by some other pitiful creature, but —save your Werewolf commiseration for later, yea? I'm trying to have a moment here."

Hermione blushed, mumbling an apology. Pansy pulled her hand back.

"Right— I'll just— get to it then… I'm only telling you this because it's like I said— I want you to feel welcome here, with us snakes—" she nudged Hermione's knee with hers, making the curly haired witch smile back at her, "—and because I know Draco will never tell you what really happened without twisting it to make it seem like it was all his fault— he still feels guilty about it and well…"

Pansy shook her head, a sad smile forming on her face. "…just don't tell him I told you my version, alright?"

Hermione nodded, anticipation to hear what Pansy was about to say written all over her face.

"After Draco took the Dark Mark, the Dark Lord wanted to make him prove his loyalty in front of the others— he's quite theatric in that sense, needing an audience to display his power… pathetic if you ask me, like a child whose desperate for their parents approval— but anyway, it was either prove his loyalty or watch his mother get tortured for his father's mistakes again— so, of course, Draco did what was necessary…"

Pansy didn't miss the way Hermione's expression softened at the mention of Narcissa Malfoy before continuing on.

"I think Greyback was late for a meeting or failed to do something equally as trivial, giving the Dark Lord the perfect excuse to test Draco and punish Greyback at the same time… He demanded Draco torture Greyback's mate…" Pansy sighed then, fumbling with an empty vial in her lap, hoping her voice didn't portray how painful retelling this story was for her, "…the Dark Lord forced Draco to torture her for so long that she went completely insane. She never spoke a word again, at least not in her human form. I'm certain it traumatized Draco too, but he has a way of hiding from pain, as I'm certain you've noticed…"

"So anyway, of course Greyback wanted revenge and Draco suspected as much… He was a paranoid mess the following weeks. He warned me that it wasn't safe to be around him— begged me to stay away, but I didn't listen. I thought he was just shutting me out. He did the same to Theo and Blaise when—"

"He was tasked to kill Dumbledore…"

"Right…" Pansy nodded slowly, regarding the witch closely, wondering just how much she knew. "Aside from protecting his mother, I think one of Draco's biggest fears was Theo becoming a Death-Eater too. He's most protective over him…" Pansy felt herself smile at the thought.

"I was curious as to why that was." Hermione said with a tilt of her head. "Theo doesn't seem the type to think he needs protection."

Pansy let out a small laugh, "Of course he doesn't, which is exactly why he does. He's terribly reckless and loyal to a fault. He's a deplorable nuisance, truly, but he'd do anything for Draco… I think Draco's the only person Theo has left after what happened to his little brother…"

"What happened to his brother?" Hermione asked, and then frowned. "Wait— I'm sorry… that— that's none of my business."

"No, it's fine. It helps if you know…. makes being around Theodore less unbearable." Pansy offered her a small smile before releasing a sigh. "Theo never talks about it. He doesn't think anyone even knows he ever had a brother. Theo's mum was really sick after giving birth, it drained her of practically all of her magic and a month later she took her own life. Theo's father was so furious that he took it out on the baby. He blamed it for taking his wife so he killed him and forced Theo to watch. He was only eleven then, I think…"

Pansy swallowed, her throat feeling dry all of the sudden. She saw a tear roll down Hermione's cheek and suppressed the need to do the same. Instead she shrugged, inhaling a deep breath, trying to force the heaviness from her chest.

"Draco and Theo have been inseparable ever since. So when Draco was given his task and stopped talking to Theo he was a complete mess. Draco has a tendency to push people away when he thinks he has to do something on his own… So that's what I thought he was doing to me too and being the brilliantly stubborn witch that I am, I refused to let him. He told me to stay away from the Manor, even placed protection charms on his room to keep me from visiting, but as I said before—" Pansy pointed to herself. "—stubborn."

Hermione lifted her sleeve to rid her cheek of another tear. "What happened when you went to visit him?"

"Greyback… he was there in the hall and I just froze—" Pansy blinked away the memory, forcing her breaths to remain steady. "You always think you'll be ready in situations like that— you know— you think fight or flight, but no one ever tells you the there's a third option— freezing from fear… I was completely consumed with it, I could taste it in my mouth and feel it everywhere, like it was growing inside me…"

Pansy forced her throat clear, "…I couldn't move and then Greyback started talking— telling me about the Dark Lord's plans to expand his army and I-I couldn't do anything but listen because I was so fucking terrified—"

She had to pause for a moment, realizing that Hermione was now gripping her fingers with hers. She glanced up from their hands.

"He smelled Draco's sent on me and… well, I'm sure you can piece together what happened next. Once Draco got there it was too late. I knew he was going to try and stop it— probably get himself killed in the process so I wandlessly cast a full body-binding curse on him. There was nothing he could do. Greyback had already sunk his teeth in, but … the look on Draco's face…"

Pansy inhaled a deep breath refusing to fall apart. She forced a smile on her face and glanced to see Hermione was breathing slowly with a pained expression across her soft features. The sight of more tears on her eyelids caused Pansy to shift uncomfortably and she let out an exaggerated breath, rolling her eyes.

"I told you I was at my quota for blubbering Gryffindors, Granger…"

Pansy saw Hermione's mouth twitch slightly as she nodded and wiped the tear away quickly.

"I know— I'm sorry… It's just—"

"I don't do pity parties Granger. I just wanted you to know everything's not as it was, none of us are… especially Draco… and if he wants you here then so do the rest of us…. Oh, and now that I know you've been staying with him all this time we should probably chat about the night I broke into his room begging him to fuck me—"

Pansy couldn't help but force the conversation in a direction she knew would cause Granger to stop blubbering. She also couldn't help the wide grin spread across her face at seeing Hermione's eyes grow wide and blinking so fast that Pansy thought she was having a panic attack. The curly haired witch was blushing the deepest shade of pink as she tried to form a response.

"We don't— um, we don't have to—"

"Actually we do… because I'm guessing Draco never clarified that incident either?" Pansy asked, arching one brow as a smirk grew across her face.

"Well, no, not really, but—"

"Oh, Granger…" Pansy patted Hermione's hand with her own and shifted to sit against the headboard, tilting her head to the side to look at her. "I'll just get straight to it— I'm in love with Daphne, not Draco."

"Oh…" She watched as the witches brow furrowed together in consideration and then sprang up in enlightenment. "Oh!"

Pansy nodded, letting out a much needed sigh of relief for admitting it aloud to someone.

"My sentiments exactly."

"But you and Draco— I thought you two—"

"No… I understand why you would assume that considering what you witnessed, but that was just another miserable attempt to destroy the only good thing in my life simply because I haven't the slightest idea how to accommodate for it without reminding myself that I don't deserve to even try— but enough about my self-loathing—"

Pansy scrunched her nose, remembering Daphne's overly insightful reasoning behind Pansy's actions.

"—the point is: Draco and I are not together. To be honest, we never really were… at least not in any romantic sense, unless you consider numbly distracting one another long enough to forget our miserable existence by way of an orgasm, then I suppose we were— but it's obvious to me now that we were both too scared to admit that we weren't what the other wanted. It was easier not to, you know?"

Hermione didn't say anything, keeping her gaze down at her hands in her lap. Pansy wondered if she was making any sense and twisted her torso to face her.

"Look— it's like this; both of our parents expected us to end up together— my parents still do, which is another issue entirely— but the families we come from you don't get choices. You're just expected to accept things… and until Daphne, I never really understood how love could be anything more than a non-negotiable contract— another expectation of a Pureblood heir…

"…to be with Draco was what was expected of me so that's what I accepted, and even though he knew how I felt about Daphne he still let me use him to appease my parents, for random distractions— I think we were both so scared of everything around us that it didn't actually matter… because love didn't exist for people like us."

"But now, with Daphne…" Pansy let out a soft laugh as she pictured bright green eyes on a round face haloed by dirty blonde hair, and full lips forming a side grin only Daphne could perfect. The image allowed Pansy to truly feel vulnerable for the first time since she started opening up to Hermione."It's so much more… it's painful how much more sometimes."

There was a pause, a moment where neither of them spoke and Pansy thought she could feel Hermione conjuring a similar image in her own mind, but of a certain blonde wizard instead. Pansy knew Draco better than anyone and Draco Malfoy didn't let other people see him vulnerable, ever; so at witnessing the devastation that consumed him moments after saving Hermione she was suddenly aware just how much he cared for her. She feared what it would do to him if she didn't feel the same… hence why she was forcing herself to open up to Hermione Granger of all people.

"I know what it looks like when you want someone so bad it hurts…" Pansy admitted, forcing her gaze to remain on Hermione's, intent on making her to pay attention, "…the uncertainty of not knowing if they feel the same hurts… the fear of what could happen to them**_ because_** you care for them hurts… and then there's the small part of you that makes you wonder _if you even deserve to hurt for them…"_

Silence stretched between them again, it felt heavy as it lingered in the air. Hermione swallowed a shaky breath, clearly uncertain what she was supposed to say back.

Pansy knew that Potter and Weasley being here reminded Draco that Granger wasn't his to protect anymore, and though he was right about that Pansy also knew he'd forgotten something else about the witch sitting next to her; Hermione Granger wasn't anyone's to protect; she belonged to herself.

It was what Pansy envied about her the most when they were younger, though she would rather sew her mouth shut without magic before admitting it. Granger had the freedom to not only make her own choices, but she always seemed to know which was the right one, too.

"If you're planning to run off with Potter and Weasley the first chance you get, then you should just go ahead and do it now, because I know Draco… I saw how badly he hurts for you. The longer you let him, the more he'll give his entire self to you. Because it's like I said— for people like me and Draco— we don't know what to do with the good in our life and the moment we're exposed to a sliver of light we devour it, hoping it will be enough to overwhelm our own darkness. If you aren't willing to take that on, then I'm begging, for his sake, don't drag it out…"

Hermione seemed unable to look at her as she shut her eyes and forced out a response, "There's more at stake than mine or Draco's feelings, Pansy."

"I know…" Pansy nodded, shifting off the bed and tilting her head to the side,"… but if what you two have is anything like what I found with Daphne, I promise… it's not worth giving up." She shrugged and handed Hermione another vial labeled dreamless sleep. "Just a thought."

Pansy didn't wait for a response as she turned on her heel, pausing by the door to smirk back at the witch who was lost deep in thought.

"Oh, and Granger…"

She lifted her head.

"If you do break his heart, just remember… I'm a Werewolf now and when I bite— it hurts." Pansy shot her a wink, waving her fingers, "Loved chatting with you… feel better and get some rest. You look dreadful."

* * *

"You can come out now. I know you're there snake…"

_Smart fucking witch, _Blaise thought to himself, lifting his disillusionment charm, smirking wickedly over at the red haired witch.

"I've got six brothers Zabini. You'll have to be more clever than that if you want to spy on me."

"I was not spying on you Ginevra—"

"I told you to stop calling me that—"

"And I refused to cooperate with that demand."

"I thought you liked it when I ordered you around?"

Blaise sat down in the library chair across from her, lacing his fingers behind his head smiling widely over at the saucy witch. He was certain Draco wouldn't approve of his visiting her on his mission, but he was exceedingly good at keeping secrets. Besides what Draco doesn't know, won't hurt him— the less he knew these days the better it would seem... He had more than enough to deal with.

"What do you want snake?"

Blaise sighed, "I love it when you talk dirty to me."

"Zabini— I truly don't have the energy to inflate your ego, or whatever it is that you get from bothering me." Ginny said rolling her eyes, turning her attention back to the book and parchment before her.

"What if that wasn't the only thing you were inflating—"

"Don't finish that sentence." She demanded, placing her quill down and leaning forward. "Fine— what is it you want? Planning to tell me why you and the other snakes have been mysteriously missing for the past week? And I refuse to believe any of the rubbish Nott claimed about a field-trip to a muggle theatre— not only for obvious reasons, but also because trying to imagine you lot interacting with muggles is comical as much as it is im-_fucking_-possible."

"Well if I told you that you wouldn't be interested in talking to me anymore and that—" Blaise leaned forward across the table and gently pushed her hair from her face, "—would break my heart Ginevra."

Ginny shifted back, causing his hand to fall to the table. "You flatter yourself Zabini. As I recall you haven't a heart at all."

"That may be true—" Blaise confirmed. "—though be that as it may, I only came to you with the hopes to ease yours."

"What does that even mean?"

"Lovegood's safe. I believe you'll be seeing her sooner than you think."

Ginny frowned over at him, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before responding.

"You came here to tell me Luna's safe? Why?"

Blaise shrugged, "You were worried about her."

The red haired witch narrowed her eyes, leaning over her parchment which Blaise then noticed was extensively covered with scribbled notes on defense and attack spells, actually the entire table was covered in defense against the dark arts notes.

"And you care what worries me because…"

"Do I have to have an angle? Maybe I'm genuinely a good bloke." Blaise said and Ginny rolled her eyes, making him chuckle. "Alright. Alright. I'm aware you don't think so, but I'm not the enemy here—"

Ginny scoffed, "You are aware that I know what Malfoy is… You're best friend is the enemy and the reason Luna was in danger the first place. You're just an extension of him—"

"For a clever witch you can certainly be dense sometimes."

"Excuse me?"

Blaise stood to his feet then. He noticed Ginny reaching towards her lap for her wand and he just shook his head.

"One day you'll see me, Ginevra… really see me. When that day comes I'll be waiting with open arms—long as it takes… because I already see you and it will be worth the wait." Blaise said vaguely, knowing the witch was glaring at him with confusion laced all over her features as he glanced over her notes. "Preparing for something, Ginevra?"

Ginny shifted over her parchment defensively. "You know very well what I'm preparing for."

"Hmm," Blaise nodded, "Perhaps… If I did— Bit of advice?"

Ginny lifted a brow, waving her hand for him to continue.

"Slytherins may be tricky and mildly untrustworthy, but they want a chance to do what's right same as everyone… We're also the best when it comes to Dark Arts— maybe if you give them the chance they could teach you a thing or two…" He shrugged before adding, "…help you and the others prepare for what's coming."

"Others?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Enough dancing around what we both know goes on in that disappearing room of yours Ginevra. Longbottom is as pitiful at Occlumency as he is at…well…" Blaise frowned, waving his hand, unable to land on just one thing, "…everything else."

"Why are you interested in what helps me, Zabini? Strengthening us will only weaken your side."

Blaise laughed a soft laugh and moved over to her side of the table. She stood and gripped her wand at her side. He slowly walked her backwards until she was pressed against the bookshelf with no way to escape. He leaned forward, grazing her hair back once more, his fingers trailing beneath her jaw. She stayed completely still, meeting his eyes with challenging glint that always made his insides dance wildly.

"And if we were on the same side… what then?"

Ginny swallowed nervously, her gaze twitching down to Blaise's lips. He could feel her heartbeat racing in her throat where he moved his fingers to wrap around her neck. He leaned forward with a smirk as his eyes roamed across her smooth skin, until they landed on her eyes. She didn't look terrified because she was scared, but she did look terrified that she still hadn't pushed him away.

"I suppose I'd consider your proposition." She said, her voice even despite her rising pulse.

Blaise smiled and dropped his hand from her throat, taking a step back to watch her stare after him in confusion.

"Prepare your troops general Ginevra." He said lightly, "There's a full moon upon us and Dark things tend to prey on their enemies when the moon is at its brightest."

"Merlin, you and your awful riddles. Can't you just speak plainly?"

Blaise placed his disillusionment charm back over himself, moving back to stand in front of her.

"Where's the fun in that?"

Before she could reach out and shove him away he leaned forward pressing a gentle kiss to her lips, which to his surprise, she welcomed and gently pressed her lips back over his. He only remained for a brief moment, teasing to a torturous extent, for he wanted to do _much, much more… but duty awaits him, as well as a very anxious elf—_

Taking a step back he admired the sight before him. The fiery red-headed witch was breathing slowly with her eyes still shut, like she was scared to open her eyes, but when she did she searched for him, not aware he was still a few feet away. She traced her fingers over her lips frowning.

"Blaise?" She called, but she got no answer. Ginny moved to sit down in her seat again, seemingly unable to focus as she stared across the table at where Blaise had just been. "Bloody hell… of course he's a good kisser…" She whispered to herself.

With that, Blaise strode out of the library feeling light for the first time in awhile and headed to the potions room. Once he was done checking and re-checking the inventory he headed off the grounds to find Mink and head towards their next stop— a destination that the elf seemed increasingly on edge about ever since they left the Safe House.

"You ready?" Blaise asked Mink.

"Master's friend can take Mink's hand now."

Blaise reached for the small hand extended to him and he took it, immediately feeling a pressure near his bellybutton, sucking him backwards and spinning him until his feet landed gently on the ground. The elf, Blaise admired, was extremely gentle while apparating which helped the queazy feeling growing in the pit of Blaise's stomach.

A freezing chill blew across them, feeling as if someone had cast a cooling charm on the entire island. Blaise glanced down at the small elf, who was shaking with fear as she took slow steps across the hillside with him on her heels. As they came to the top of the hill Blaise suddenly understood the elves hesitance to want to come here. Scattered across the valley below him was what could only be described as a boneyard, with the looming castle sat near the islands edge. The dreaded weight of dark magic seemed to radiate from the haunted looking castle.

"What is this place?" Blaise asked.

"A horrible, horrible place…" Mink mumbled to herself, her hands shaking uncontrollably. "Master is calling it Kilchurn Castle. Other Master be bringing creatures here."

"Creatures? For what?"

"Master is calling it experimenting."

Blaise felt a chill roll down his spine as the scattered bones in the valley suddenly seemed far too fresh. He felt the desire to vomit, but ignored it as he scanned the castle's entrance. One guard stood on post, though Blaise was certain it wasn't a wizard, but a hybrid perhaps? Of a giant and… something else? Something with a gagged tail?

This was Voldemort's doing.

Blaise was about to inquire what type of experimenting, but he felt he already knew. He wondered what deadly potions Draco was requested to create for the Dark Lord this time and felt the need to vomit again at the thought of it.

"Mink must go alone. Master's friend will be safe here."

Blaise hesitated before squatting down before the elf with the bag of potions in his grasp.

"Mink, what have you seen happen inside that castle?"

The small elf lifted her hands to her ears pulling at them nervously as her eyes darted around the island as if she expected someone to appear any moment.

"Mink is not wanting to repeat it sir. Mink doesn't know how to speak to Master's friend about the horrible, horrible things— but if Master's friend demands it—"

"No. No. It's ok. You don't have to repeat it. I understand." Blaise nodded, and reached out to grip the elves hand from where it looked like she was about to rip her ear off. "Are you sure you are alright to go alone?"

Mink nodded, looking up from a piece of yarn wrapped around her wrist and then glanced at the castle, pulling back her small shoulders and releasing a puff of air. Her expression set into one of determination that Blaise couldn't help but smile at.

"Mink is brave. Master trusts Mink to deliver the potions. Master tells Mink she has courage."

She glanced down at the yarn on her wrist once more, and then huffed out another confidant breath. Blaise narrowed his eyes.

"Hey Mink, that bracelet… Did Draco make that for you?"

Mink smiled up at Blaise and nodded.

"So… you're— you're a free elf then?"

"Mink belongs to Master Draco."

Blaise shook his head, certain that the elf wouldn't accept her freedom even if Draco had given the yarn to her with the intent to free her.

"Well then, I won't keep you any longer. Go forth and be brave Mink, but also be careful, yea? Master would want you to come back safely."

The small elf turned her stern expression up at Blaise, it softened at the mention of Draco.

"Mink will always come back for Master."

Mink held out her small had and took the bag of potions from Blaise. She placed some kind of invisible ward over Blaise, protecting him from being seen in case one of the guards wandered out too far and then disapparated, leaving Blaise alone wondering what kind of horrors were happening within the castle; dreading the possibility that he, along with the rest of the Wizarding World, may find out soon enough…

* * *

"Theo, you know I hate when you do that."

Theo smirked over his shoulder at Daphne. She was sitting on the window seat behind him in the kitchenette, skinning a bloodroot or something similarly as tedious, as he sat on the piano bench, his fingers delicately skimming the ivory keys, producing a very melodic sound.

"Whatever do you mean, Greengrass?" Theo hummed, knowing very well her frustrations were centered around his playing.

"Play it how it's meant to be played or not at all. No matter what you keep telling yourself, you aren't so clever that you can improvise on a piece created by the most talented composers of the past two centuries, squib or otherwise."

"Bach was no squib, Greengrass. He was a muggle, and I am only playing the score the way Debussy would interpret it had he been the one to compose it—"

"Why?"

The tilted his head up, his scanning the ceiling as if searching for the answer, "It just felt right."

"Well it's depressing—"

"I would think Claude would prefer the term melancholic— and of course it's depressing, the bastard was French."

Daphne sighed, "I don't see how that relates."

"Of course you don't." Theo sighed dramatically, turning his attention back to the sheet of music before him to continue his playing, attempting to distract himself from the presence of a certain wizard on the other side of the room whispering with a certain red haired git.

He continued his playing, as well as his practice of interpreting the floating sheet of music in a way he knew would further anger the witch behind him. It wasn't until she muttered the vanishing spell that Theo was forced to play what he could from memory, determined to not miss a beat in hope to further infuriate her. It passed the time. It also kept his eyes from searching out a pair of green ones every few moments.

"Oh, well, that actually sounds nice." Daphne mused, coming to stand ncext to him. "Who is it?'

"An original."

Daphne lifted a brow skeptically.

"What? It's true." He stated, turning his attention back down to the keys as he continued playing. "I'm aware you think me clever, Greengrass, but I haven't got quite mastered memorizing Bach's entire—"

"It sounds beautiful…"

Theo's fingers missed several of the correct keys as he jerked his head up to see the very wizard he had been trying to avoid looking at now standing next to Daphne. Theo cleared his throat and directed his gaze back to his fingers, quickly picking up where he left off.

"You would think he'd be good at taking compliments considering how often he gives them to himself, but that isn't the case." He heard Daphne say to Harry, though he was having a difficult time thinking of anything at all as he felt Harry's eyes watching his fingers move delicately across the keys.

"Where'd Weasley run off to?" Daphne asked Harry.

"He needed to send a message to his family. Needed privacy."

Theo glanced up then, noticing the way Harry seemed uncomfortable at the mention of Ron. His dark hair covered the tips of his glasses as he hung his head, seemingly interested in his shoes all of a sudden.

Daphne turned to see Pansy entering the kitchen then, "How is she?"

Potter turned around then too, watching Pansy as she leaned against the kitchen island and crossed her arms.

"She's better… probably needs to sleep for the rest of the day to be rid of most of the discomfort though. I gave her dreamless sleep and a calming draught. Draco's with her now."

Theo had already stopped playing and moved to join in on the conversation. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was just as worried about Granger as the rest of them, even if she had forced him on her suicide mission. He glanced sideways at Harry, and knew he couldn't blame her. He would have done the same for Draco.

"Are you two going somewhere?" Harry asked, eyeing the bag on Pansy's shoulder as Daphne pulled out her wand and summoned her own.

"If I say yes, will you insist on asking where?" Pansy countered with a lift of her brow.

"Yes." Harry said bluntly, causing Theo to smirk knowing he and Pansy were complete opposites in terms of decorum; where Pansy was calculated and purposefully intentional in her delivery, Potter was uncompromisingly forthright. He admired the genuine lack of tact to be honest, found it endearing.

Before Pansy could make a snide remark Daphne took a step towards her, placing her arm on Pansy's and smiled at Harry. "Recruiting for the cause. Theo can tell you all about it. He loves any excuse to portray is enthusiastic story telling abilities."

Theo turned to glare at the small witch who was currently sending him a smug smile.

"It's called commitment, Greengrass. I commit to the role for the listeners benefit, not my own—"

"Yes, you're the pinnacle of selflessness, Theodore."

"There is absolutely no need for that much body movement whilst getting to the point, Theo, ever." Pansy added before turning towards Harry, "If he starts implementing acrobatics at any point, know you have my permission to hex him."

Pansy shot Theo a wink before she gripped her hand over Daphne's and they disapparated a moment later, leaving Theo and Harry standing alone in the kitchen.

Theo cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets, determined to be rid of the awkward tension that seemed to be radiating off of them both before it made him say something fucking stupid, like—

_I want to kiss you. I've thought about kissing you again everyday for the past two years and— fuck— I want you, Harry. I've thought about what I would do if I ever got to see you again, I tortured myself with the possibility... never believing it would ever be true unless one of us were dead— and fuck— I really need to kiss you—_

"Right. So they're werewolves. Did I forget to mention that earlier?"

Harry blinked at him as he finally turned to face him. "They're— both of them? How?"

"Yea— sort of a sappy story really, so I'll save you the overly sentimental details. Pansy was bit first by Greyback. Draco, Blaise and I fucked up and thought it'd be best to consider her 'wishes' and keep it a secret from Daph— which only made Daphne more intent on finding out why we all kept venturing into the Forbidden Forrest… which is where she happened to follow us the night Pansy turned, which none of us were prepared for— not only for the most obvious reason: the unpredictability of a werewolves first transformation, but also the most _not_ obvious reason that Pany had these secret feelings for Daphne, which were magnified times, like a million, when she turned so the moment she got a whiff of Daph's sent it was game over, really…

"Poorly executed?" Theo asked rhetorically as he paced in front of Harry, very aware of the way Harry's eyes seemed to roam over his body, and silently relishing the heat it brought to his lower abdomen, "Definitely— but I suppose that had more to do with the fact that Draco was being forced into becoming a murder-obsessed child solider for a Tyrannical-Fuck-Lord at the time we were preparing for her transformation and his head really wasn't in a good place— so whose to blame, really?— anyway, you can add that story to the long list of other stories I have no intention of telling you— so I think what we all learned from the situation was it's probably best if, moving forward, everyone simply disregard Pansy's wishes, forever, about everything really—"

"Theo." Harry interrupted the moment Theo paused for a breath, taking a step forward, bringing him only a foot away from him, but Theo purposely ignored him, stepping past him to continue pacing.

"It wasn't all bad, though— some good did come of it. Pansy finally got the courage to admit how she felt and her and Daphne are completely entranced with one another now—" Theo turned on his heel, swallowing nervously as he noticed Harry was directly in front of him now.

"Theo." He repeated again, bringing his hands to his shoulders.

Theo concentrated on not glancing at his lips with little success, "Hm?"

"What did they mean recruiting for the cause?"

It took Theo a moment to respond, as Harry seemed to have no intention of moving away even though he dropped his hands from his shoulders.

"Oh… that's what you wanted to know? Well why didn't you say something…" Theo smirked playfully down at him, and leaned forward as he added, "You should really be more specific, Potter, as in the past I've found it very difficult determining exactly what it is you want."

Harry rolled his eyes and turned away from him. "Don't do that. For once, Nott— just don't…"

Theo stood up straight, trying to appear unaffected as he watched him walk away, stopping once he made it to the piano, leaning against it as he crossed his arms. _Clearly, not the time for relentless flirting then_, Theo internally noted.

Theo let out a sigh as he moved to join him, glancing sideways to see him staring out the window where Ron was sitting alone on the stone bench in the deserted, decaying gardens. Theo saw it again, the dreadful guilt laced on his features as he clenched his jaw and tore his eyes away from the window to stare up at Theo. He held his stare for a moment longer, the anger from seconds ago completely vanished and replaced with an intoxicating kind of sadness, a look that only someone as fucked up as Theo would find mesmerizing.

"Something happened with you two, didn't it?" Theo asked seriously.

Harry didn't answer, instead he dropped his gaze to his feet and wrapped his arms around himself. The small shift of his body causing his arm to find itself pressed to Theo's. Forcing himself to focus on his own feet and not the heat of his body near his, he cleared his throat.

"Pansy and Daphne are planning to recruit as many new initiates from Greyback's army and bring them back here. Draco thinks it will help our chances when it's time to fight."

He felt Harry lift his head then, unable to resist looking back and uncertain how many opportunities he would have to do so, Theo did the same, taking in every new detail and scar he hadn't noticed before, the wrinkles that came with constant worrying and living on the run. He wondered when the last time Harry felt safe, if he ever did—

"All of you are really planning to deflect, aren't you?" Harry asked, his tone full of disbelief, then began shaking his head slightly as Theo nodded. "Why now?"

"It's all Granger's fault really." Theo answered honestly, knowing at the mention of his best friend Harry's expression would soften. "Intentional or not, I think she forced Draco to consider who he was and showed him what he could never see before her…"

"Which is what?"

Theo shrugged, "Who he could be."

Harry's brow pulled together as he considered what Theo was saying.

"In case you've forgotten, Hermione Granger has a habit of always being right. It was only a matter of time before she convinced all of us you were worth risking our lives for."

Although Theo had meant for it to sound lighthearted, he was not entirely surprised that it had not come out the way he intended, things Theo said rarely did. Harry shoved away from the piano and turned to face him, his shoulders tense and his jaw set.

"I never asked anyone to risk their lives for me!" He growled, and then shut his eyes and dropped his chin as he added, hardly above a whisper, "I don't want anyone else to die for me… I can't— I just want it to be over—"

It took Theo a moment to realize how difficult it felt to breath, choking on the sight of the beautiful disaster that Harry had slowly morphed into. He watched as Harry's chest rose and fell several times until his breathing eventually evened out. Theo glanced out to where Ron was sitting with his head hanging low in his hands, and Theo thought he knew why the two seemed less than cordial towards one another now. It wasn't difficult to piece together that they both felt the weight of losing Hermione…

He wondered how many others they had lost and how many Harry felt Ron blamed him for. He thought of what it actually meant for Harry to have Hermione back, if he had allowed it to sink in yet— if it would be enough to remove an ounce of the guilt he carried— if he could be the one to help him try?

"Harry…"

Theo moved slowly to close the small distance between them, expecting Harry to shove him or turn away, but the moment he lifted his arms around Harry's waist to pull him close, he felt Harry's arms immediately raise to wrap around his neck, burying his face against his chest and curling his fingers tightly around the collar of his shirt for support, like he needed to remember what it felt like to let someone hold him. His shaky breaths gently caressed Theo's neck, inching along his collarbone, causing every inch of Theo's skin to shiver in response. His grip tightened where he was holding him and he forced his eyes shut, focusing on comforting Harry, instead of letting his selfish desire to taste his lips again control him.

For once, Theo didn't have anything to say, and although he felt like he was failing Harry somehow, by not having the right words...

And for a second he allowed himself to believe that Harry had thought of him and their many nights spent talking and walking the grounds together just as often as he did, and that having Theo hold him was exactly what he needed… for this moment he let himself believe it was enough— that maybe for this broken version of Harry, Theo could be enough…

* * *

Bright colors flashed before his closed eye-lids like a fluid illusion of motion, lingering only enough for him to recognize that they were memories, his memories. The colors shifting so quickly that he was still unaware that he was not completely conscious, but on the cusp of awakening to reality. He could feel the familiar sensation of the vines rattling within his mind, but what was absent seemed to be his ability to control them at all. He felt as if he was being forced to watch, each memory demanding his attention all at once.

The images began to blur, the bright colors dimming, and then he appeared before his mothers labyrinth, tall green hedges stretching out before him, and somewhere within his struggle to find consciousness and force himself awake he knew what happened to him right before being summoned by the Dark Lord was happening once more, and with an even stronger intensity.

Hermione was there again, standing just within the mazes entrance, staring at him as vines began to crawl from all around her, luring him in. He took a step forward as she took one back. The ground felt fragile beneath his feet, as if one wrong step would send them both into darkness. He called for her. She didn't respond. She only watched as the vines began curling around his ankles, stretching up, climbing until they consumed him and the flashes of images began to take over his sight once more…

_He saw his mother covered in blood laying in a pile of rubble, her eyes open and lifeless. His father was by her side within seconds, pulling her limp body close to his chest. His piercing blue eyes filled with rage turned to Draco then, yelling at him that it was all his fault, it was all his fault—_

The vine containing his mother was ripped away, and had Draco been awake he thought he would have felt himself losing the ability to breath. Before he could even consider what he had just seen another series of images revealed themselves and he was standing on the edge of the Forbidden Forest...

_Pansy and Daphne were running towards him, screaming for him to run as a large dark figure closed in on their heels. Greyback—_

The piercing sound of their screaming faded as another vine wrapped around his throat and then he was standing before two iron gates he recognized as Bellatrix's vault beneath Gringott's.

_Then someone was gripping his shoulders, shaking him and telling him to run… Potter?—_

Each vine began to shake with a new found fury as he returned to stand before his mind's labyrinth. The green hedges began deteriorating, closing in on themselves and turning brown with each passing second. He thought he could actually feel his brain burning within his skull. Flames began to appear, incinerating every last vine tucked deep within. He searched for a blur of brown curly hair, a sudden anxiousness overcame him at the thought of her being inside. His feet moved in an instant, shoving through the smoke and flames licking at his heels and growing with each heartbeat. He called for her as he searched deeper into the maze. It would only be a matter of seconds before he was lost the the flames within the maze along with her. Draco shouted her name, feeling his throat ache from the force of it. The ground was shaking. He could no longer see anything through the smoke, the weight of it forced him to his knees. Hermione's name curled off of his lips as he felt himself give into the darkness.

* * *

Hermione woke to the sound of what she thought was someone calling her name. The pain that had lingered from the extraction was lessened thanks to Pansy forcing her to rest and giving her enough blood-replenishing potions to feel her strength return to normal. She only felt the numbing sting lingering near the scar on her forearm in spurts as she shoved herself from the bed and moved to kneel before where Draco sat, seemingly unconscious. He was shaking as if he was on the verge of recovering from hypothermia and frantically grunting from whatever was happening inside his mind.

"Draco!"

Hermione hurried to try and wake him, placing both of her hands on either side of his face, repeating his name until she felt him still beneath her touch. His eyes fluttered open slowly as the rise and fall of his chest evened out.

"Draco…" She said again, not concerned with how relieved she sounded at waking to find him in the chair near her bed. He blinked a few times as his eyes settled on her. She offered him a small reassuring smile, moving her hands from his face to rest them over his as she mumbled, "You're alright. Its alright. Just a nightmare. You're safe."

"Y-You're awake— " He muttered, his voice sounding strained as the expression on his face.

"I'm awake." Hermione nodded and gave his hands a gentle squeeze, "I hear I have you to thank for that."

He sat up a little straighter then, removing his hands from hers to press the heel of his hands to his eyes. She tried to ignore the pain in her chest as he pulled away.

"Draco… what is it? Are you feeling alright? You were shaking—"

"I'm fine."

Hermione only nodded, suddenly feeling embarrassed for kneeling before him. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed as he seemed to be collecting himself. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees as he forced his hands through his hair, keeping them there for a moment before standing to his feet.

"Draco— I know you told me to wait, but I-I just—" she inhaled a shaky breath, "I'm sorry— I just couldn't."

He shrugged. His usually cold demeanor returning. "It's done."

"Draco—"

"Granger, really. You don't need to apologize. It was only a matter of time."

Hermione flinched back, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Draco rolled his eyes, letting out a low cruel laugh as he walked across the room to stand in front of the window. It was dark again. Hermione moved to follow him, crossing her arms of her chest.

"Draco. What's that supposed to mean?"

He turned on his heel quickly then, closing the distance between them, glaring down at her. She felt her breath catch at the sudden movement, but held her ground. Her gaze flicked to his clenched jaw and back to his heated gaze as the tense silence stretched between them. Hermione softened the moment he shut his eyes and dropped his head, shaking it as he released a breath.

"Doesn't matter. You got what you wanted. I just wanted to make sure you woke up and you did so…"

Before he could turn away Hermione lifted her hand to his cheek and forced him to look at her.

"Draco, I'm sorry. I know I betrayed your trust and you're angry with me, but I only wanted to give you one less thing to worry about—"

"Give me one less—" He repeated her words back to her with a bitterness, not even able to finish the sentence as he drew back from her touch, "Granger— don't pretend you went after Potter for me."

"I did it for all of us! We're running out of time, Draco. I couldn't just leave your ability to hide your thoughts from You-Know-Who to chance— especially with how difficult it's been for you! He would murder you without any hesitation if he knew what you did for me—" Hermione took a step closer to him again, "— I couldn't just wait and hope for the best anymore, Draco. If he summoned you and you didn't come back…"

His face began to blur before her as tears formed in her eyes. She felt them slowly stream down her face and didn't even bother with wipping them away.

"We both know Harry's the only one who can end this. Isn't that what you want?"

"Of course I do, but—"

"Then why are you still fighting this—"

"Because of you!" He practically shouted as he stepped towards her, not longer hiding behind his well crafted illusion of calm. "Because it's Potter! You made a fool of me Granger!" He lowered his voice, and brought both of his hands to either side of her face, resting his forehead against hers. "You made a fool of me and I let you, and I know I'd let you do it again, and again, and again…"

"Draco…"She whispered back, unable to ignore the thumping of her heartbeat in her ears and the heat flowing through her body as his shaky exhale of breath fell on her lips. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry."

She hadn't expected for him to kiss her, but kiss her he did, with all the force of whatever raging emotions he couldn't express to her driving his desperation to make her understand, to make her feel every ounce of it. It was rough and distraught with an anxiousness so tangible, as if his lips couldn't stop searching hers until he felt hers from every angle. As his fingers twisted in her hair, hers gripped onto the fabric of his shirt over his chest, clinging to him for support that neither of them seemed capable of giving the other.

"When I saw you— and your blood was everywhere—" he muttered between kisses against hers lips. "—I was fucking terrified— I wouldn't be able to save you— not again— "

She felt the pressure of the bed frame hitting the back of her knees as one of his hands found their way from her hair to wrap possessively around her waist, easing her backwards until his entire body was pressed against hers. She felt his teeth pulling at her bottom lip and then his mouth was skating across her skin, his lips pressing to the sensitive place beneath her jaw, down the side of her throat. She arched her back in response to his touch, burying her fingers in hair, desperately trying to catch her breath.

As he pressed his hips forward, she felt a vibration against her skin where his lips had just released a soft moan. His lips found hers again and she wondered if this was what it would always be like kissing Draco Malfoy, fueled with so much desires and agonizing passion that it forced her brain to go silent, numbing her mind to anything other than the pleasure she felt from knowing he wanted her.

"—I can't lose you Hermione—"

Somewhere between him kissing her neck and whispering to her she had wrapped her legs around his back and she now used the leverage to lift her hips and pull him closer. His response to her seemed to only intensify his need to taste every inch of her skin.

As his lips drifted to her ear and he rolled his hips forward she felt his hardened length against her core, stretching up against her stomach, forcing her to release a soft whimper that he eagerly devoured with his lips. She felt as if he was being overtly intentional with every ounce of pressure he applied, with every flick of his tongue against hers, even with the amount of times he sucked on her lower lip, teasing her into oblivion, willing her to get lost in him—

Hermione felt him still then and gently pulled his lips from hers. She opened her eyes into his, mesmerized by the desire pooling within them. His shaky breaths sending shivers across her skin.

"—I won't let you go—"

He shut his eyes, lightly tracing his nose over hers and across her cheek, pulling back to look at her. The look on his face almost broke her. He looked terrified.

"I thought I could be strong enough to let you, but I'm not… I'm a fucking coward, Hermione and I need you to tell me that you choose me— I know I don't deserve it and the best thing for you to do would be to go as far away from me as possible, run off with Potter— I know that— but I'm selfish enough to ask you not to—"

"Hey, hey… Draco." She cooed, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb soothingly in an attempt to calm him. She could feel his racing heartbeat against her own. "I'm not going anywhere… not without you."

She could tell he didn't believe her.

She gently pulled his face towards hers and pressed her lips to his, enjoying the way the tension in his body seemed to fade away with touch of her lips to his.

Neither of them had ever been good with expressing how they felt about the other with words, and when she kissed Draco she thought she could feel something reaching from his mind to hers, crawling across her mind and wrapping itself within, making them both understand what neither of them could say.

It had never occurred to Hermione that physical communication could make her understand more about Draco than any string of words ever could. Physical touch had simply always been a means to display ones affection or a sloppy way to deal with hormones, but as she kissed Draco, she knew she was utterly and devastatingly wrong; because when his lips grazed the skin beneath her jaw she understood it was his way of an apology, and when his teeth nipped her bottom lip she understood it was his way of admitting that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him, and when he traced his fingers against the exposed skin of her back until he could hold her firmly against him she understood that was his way of telling her that— if she let him— he would never let go.

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, yes, I know. I promised more Dramione scenes, but I have my reasons for my inability to deliver. My brain wouldn't allow it, instead it demanded to further the plot and build other characters (Booooo, I know) but I've already spent too much time going back and forth with this mess of a chapter and I didn't want to waste another second to get this bad boy posted for you lovely people. So, forgive me and as a way to apologize I'll attempt to post the next chapter before Sunday, which- obviously after that snog session- will need much more Dramione scenes to sort out what the heck just went down!

Ok. Don't forget to REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW. Good or bad. I need feedback. Also, if you wanna be really rad and help me feel all wonderful inside check out the character post I created for this story on my tumblr... todayshewrites . tumblr . com


	16. Friendship & Favored Odds

**Chapter Playlist:**

_I See You : MISSOA_

_Only : RY X_

_White Blank Page : Mumford & Sons_

_Not About Angels : Birdy_

_O Children : Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds_

_I'm Not Yours : Angus & Julia Stone_

* * *

Draco hadn't considered this outcome amongst the multiple other onslaught of possibilities when it came to what he thought Hermione would do after she was reunited with her helpless duo. What he had expected was something similar to the impending collapse of his sanity when she decided she'd be better off fumbling her way through the war as Potter's brilliant sidekick, leaving him to plummet into an abyss of madness and desolate disappointment; (which was only a tad more dramatic than necessary, but true all the same)

Which was perhaps why, after she kissed him into a state of mind-numbing ecstasy and eventually slowed their pace long enough to catch their breath, he was equally as unable to process her request thereafter.

_Stay…_ she had whispered… _just a while longer_.

Those words settled something inside Draco, knowing she desired to remain in his arms, that she found even the slightest bit of comfort with him, causing his inner turmoil to settle, if only briefly; though, as good things often did for Draco, it was no to last; his unrelenting need for clarity forced him to break the blissful, perfect silence they had created in the moments following his confession.

As he shifted slightly beneath her, the cheek she had laying peacefully his racing heartbeat lifted, bringing her dazed expression to his and frowning as he ruined what was quite possible his favorite moment of his short and miserable existence.

He cleared his throat then, dreading the question almost as much as he was dreading her answer.

As she shifted onto her side he was increasingly aware of how effected he was with her presence, and he was no longer able to ignore his need for clarity... the infuriatingly delicious reminder came from the delicate tracing of her finger across his forearm, the light pressure of her fingertips on his skin, teasing him and his racing thoughts further…

He needed to ask the question before she completely obliterated his ability to even form a coherent thought that didn't involve her lips on his, her body beneath his, her whispers across his skin—

"So what happens now?" He blurted out.

Hermione considered the anxiousness growing over his features. She felt his fingers grip a little tighter around her waist, mirroring the tightness in her chest; though Hermione wasn't ready to wake up from this strange new reality she found herself in... a reality where Draco Malfoy kissed her like her lips were the only things that mattered. With that thought, she felt an odd jolt of courage, a daringness that she hadn't realized she possessed before kissing Draco. With a playful smirk on her lips, she sat up and lifted her leg over him so that she was straddling him.

"What happens now…" she trailed off as she lifted her hands to wrap in his hair and lowered her mouth to place a gentle kiss on his forehead, "…is entirely up to you."

Draco smirked as she pulled back, eyes trailing down to where their hips met and back to her face, "Careful Granger, may want to reconsider that statement or I may never let you leave this room—"

Hermione rolled her eyes, though Draco didn't miss the blush rising to her cheeks. "I only meant that it's entirely up to you what happens now that Harry and Ron are here."

"Ah…" He said, sitting up to lean against the headboard, keeping his hands on her hips to steady her.

"You managed to stop hating me…" Hermione shrugged, gently trailing her hands from his shoulders to his chest. "...maybe after spending some time together it will be the same with them."

Draco snorted, gripping her hips firmly to his. "The exact same, huh? —expecting me to snog Potter too then?"

"Very funny." She giggled, playfully shoving his shoulder.

"Besides…" He brought one hand behind her head, pulling her lips to his for a brief kiss. "I don't think I ever truly hated you."

Hermione placed her hands on his shoulders, pushing back to give him a pointed look. "Are you certain you aren't ill? You seem to be having some difficulties remembering our past. As I recall you wished me dead during second year—"

Her sentence was abruptly stopped short, instead a small squeal escaped her as she felt her body being lifted and she landed firmly on her back, both of his hands pinning her wrists above her head.

"You were forbidden territory, Granger. I couldn't have you." He leaned down to press soft kisses along her neck, causing her eyes to flutter shut. "I was an immature—" his lips found her ear, "selfish—" then his tongue, "arrogant—" his teeth, "prick who was used to getting what he wanted, but never you..."

Hermione heard herself let out a soft sigh as his lips trailed down her throat. She knew she should be responding to him, saying something along the lines of 'that doesn't excuse you being a complete arse' or something equally as swotty, but his lips on her neck made her think it could wait.

"Now that I think about... it I can't believe it took you as long as it did to finally get around to hitting me in the face—"

Hermione smiled at that opening her eyes to see him smirking down at her. She was grateful her words hadn't upset him and as she looked at him now she thought she noticed something was different. She felt an openness radiating from him, like the shields around his mind, concealing his emotions were missing completely.

"Trust me, I thought about it."

"Oh?" He lifted a brow, "—and when you thought of me were you alone… in the bed perhaps, late at night— ?"

Hermione smacked his shoulder, frowning up at him, "Absolutely not!"

He sighed, "Just me then…"

"Wait, are you saying that you...?"

Draco rolled off of her then, shrugging as he brought one arm behind his head to stare up at the ceiling. "Forbidden territory, Granger— I was a teenage boy, what do you think?"

Hermione bit her lip, her entire body suddenly feeling very warm. She heard him laugh and it only increased her embarrassment. As if sensing this, he pulled her into his chest again, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her flush against his side.

"I hated myself for it after, of course." He admitted, placing his chin on top of her head.

"Why?" She asked, her voice sounding very, very small. She felt him tense slightly beneath her before letting out a sigh.

"I don't know…. I guess because after I would see you in the library, or pass you in the halls with Potter or Weasley— not to mention I wasn't _allowed_ to think of you at all, least of all in that way— back then it was so much easier to ignore it though, pretend you weren't the most infuriatingly intriguing witch I'd ever met."

Hermione felt a sad smile form on her face as she rested her cheek against his chest, lightly tracing her fingers over his stomach as she considered his confession. Surprisingly, it allowed her more insight to why he treated her so harshly and why she always felt he never had any remorse for the things he said and did to her. He'd been surviving with his Occlumency shields for so long, but she never would have thought it was to prevent him from thinking of her. His mother's face flashed in her mind, a small tinge of guilt pulling on a small string around her chest that had appeared shortly after her talk with Narcissa Malfoy, as a way of reminding her of the secret she was keeping from Draco.

_I am not tell you this in hopes that you can stop his labyrinth from deteriorating— I am telling you this in hopes you will help him destroy it._

"And now…?" She asked. "It's more difficult?"

She felt his right hand beneath her chin, lifting it. He paused for a moment, his expression becoming softer the longer his eyes roamed across her face.

"It's laughable, how little control I have when it comes to you."

"Draco…" She started, shutting her eyes.

"Don't—" He said suddenly, forcing her to open her eyes to see him frowning. He lifted his fingers, smoothing out the anxious wrinkle between her brow. "Whatever it is— if it's anything to do with what's happening to me— just don't say it. I have an idea but if fixing it means not having you, being with you like this—," grazing his fingers through her hair, keeping it his hand firmly around her throat as his thumb traced her bottom lip, "—then I don't want to know."

Hermione bit her lip, wanting desperately to rid herself of the heavy weight in her chest. Instead, she only nodded.

"So…" He finally said, sensing they both knew they couldn't stay in this room much longer. "Proficient avoider of questions... what happens now?"

It wasn't lost on her that this was normally a question she presented to him. The small distinction spoke volumes; even after going after Harry and Ron, he was still willing to trust her. She made a promise to herself in that moment that she would do whatever she could to ensure he always could.

She sighed and then nervously glanced up at him.

"Now… We hunt down the last of the Horcruxes, but first... we'll have to do something far more difficult, but not quite as dangerous."

"What's that?" Draco frowned, regarding the guilty looking witch.

"Convince Ronald Weasley that he can trust you."

* * *

Theo felt as if time was lingering and growing heavier with each passing tick of the lazy second hand on the clock within his mind. The silence and the stillness was broken only by the occasional shaky inhale of breath from the guilt stricken wizard in his arms. Theo's fingers curled into Harry's hair as his right hand held him firmly on the small of his back, steadying him, feeling that if he let go he might break...

He glanced out the dew-stained window, through the scattered fog, finding the blur of red hair. Ron's back was to them as he remained hunched over himself, seemingly in a similar state to Harry. There was a cool line of pale green along the horizon before him: Dusk was approaching.

If their surroundings in the kitchen could have reflected the feelings of what Theo imagined to be happening inside Harry at that moment, the cauldrons would have been boiling wildly with guilt and simmering in pain beneath the surface.

Theo inhaled a deep breath, trying not to think of what had caused the once inseparable duo to feel so far apart from the other; but it couldn't last… he knew his curiosity and desire to numb the pain inside Harry would outweigh his selfless tendencies. Not to mention it was difficult to ignore the tension that loomed between the two ever since they arrived.

It was becoming unbearable, the silence that continued to stretch as Harry tightened his grip around Theo's jumper.

"Harry." Theo said softly, pulling back enough to catch a glimpse of his red-rimmed eyes behind his round glasses. "We both know I'm the last person to know what to say in situations like this, but I know what it looks like when you're fighting with your best mate."

Harry seemed intent on not meeting his stare, as if he couldn't bare it. He stepped away from him, leaning back on the counter for support instead.

"That noticeable, huh?"

Theo remained silent, nodding as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"When you found me and Ron at Shell Cottage…" Harry said slowly, grimacing. "…that was the first time I've seen him in weeks."

Harry hung his head then, swallowing what seemed to Theo like an attempting to cover a sob. "After Hermione… I wasn't— I couldn't— "

Theo took one step forward, lifting his hands to either side of Harry's face, "Hey— hey— You don't have to tell me." Theo shook his head for emphasis. "You don't have to explain yourself to me—"

"I want to." Harry admitted, "I haven't been able to since… I couldn't— I need to."

"—even if it's to me?"

Harry finally lifted his gaze to meet his as Theo dropped his hands to his waist.

A small defeated laugh fell from Harry's lips, "Because it's you."

Theo let his words spread across the short distance between them, ebbing their way into his chest, forcing it to tighten as he inhaled a shaky breath. He didn't trust himself to say anything, instead he just nodded.

"After we lost Hermione..." Harry glanced down at his hands wrapped around Theo's forearms as if he hadn't realized he was holding onto him until that moment. "... I couldn't accept it and then when I did... I couldn't stop hating myself. She was the only family I had left and I let her die for me… Every single person that gets close to me dies, but this was Hermione and after I lost her I wondered if it would all end if I just turned myself over to him. I wanted to."

He didn't have to tell Theo he was referring to Voldemort.

"I knew I couldn't… that I wouldn't, but I considered it, truly considered it..." He added with a bitter laugh. "I couldn't be around anyone. Every time I looked at Ron I just—"

He felt Harry's fingers tighten around his forearms, though Harry kept his eyes down.

"You saw Hermione… you pictured him dying too." Theo guessed.

Harry lifted his head then, nodding. His expression no longer empty, but clouded with a miserable type of grief; the heavy kind, the kind that you could never imagine leading to any kind of healing unless Death was kind enough to show you mercy.

"I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory; a memory that keeps playing on a loop inside my head… and if I ignored it… if I could just shut it off for one second—" he glanced away from Theo then, glancing out the window where Ron sat. "—eventually Ron had enough of trying to snap me out of it I guess. Shortly after Bill was captured he went back to his family and I stayed at the Cottage. It wasn't until the raid that he sought me out to tell me his brother was killed... that's when you showed up."

"He left and then came back just to tell you his brother died? Why bother? To blame you for something you couldn't prevent?"

"I'm not sure," Harry just shrugged, "—but now that we have Hermione back… I just— I don't want Hermione to know that I stopped fighting— that I gave up."

"You're allowed a fucking minute of peace, Potter. Granger would understand that."

"She wouldn't have let it stop her."

"You're right." Theo agreed with a small laugh. "That blasted witch is relentless, especially when it comes to you. I did mention that she stole my wand, kidnapped me and forced me on her little suicide mission to get to you, right?"

Harry nodded, a small smirk twitching on his lips. Noticing the lack of warmth his smile normally held, Theo felt desperate to have a glimpse of the boy he once knew; the boy who had always seemed brave despite all the obvious reasons he shouldn't...

Theo tilted his face towards his, lifting one hand to Harry's cheek, feeling a warmth shoot through his veins as Harry swallowed nervously and closed his eyes in response into his touch. He watched Harry inhale and exhale twice before he broke the silence.

"Just say the word Potter and I'll whisk you off to some untraceable island, securely warded, stock full of all the food and booze you could want— we can obliviate each other so we don't remember any of this fucked up war—" Theo smirked before adding, "—who knows, if you get me drunk enough I may even go skinny dipping with you."

Hearing Harry laugh, genuinely laugh, forced Theo's small smirk into a full on smile.

"I thought you couldn't swim."

"For what I imagine we'd get up to, we'd hardly need to be more than waist deep." Theo tilted his head forward slightly, feeling Harry's hair brush against his forehead. "Besides, you wouldn't let me drown… would you, Potter?"

He glanced to where Harry's tongue flicked over his lips.

"Thank you."

Harry's voice was soft, fragile even.

Theo frowned, pulling back to find his expression less pained than before. "What for?"

"I can't remember the last time I laughed—," Harry lifted his hands to place them on Theo's stomach, slowly raising them until they paused over his chest, frowning as he considered if he should keep them there and ultimately deciding he should, "—and also, you know... for always listening."

Theo concentrated on the burning sensation beneath Harry's palms trailing slowly up his chest, clenching his jaw as Harry's eyes flickered to his lips.

"You're the only person whose never expected anything from me… You never expected me to be brave, or to have a plan— you let me be nothing and anything I wanted at the same time— even back at Hogwarts— it was so easy to find you after curfew, knowing you would be willing to listen… I never understood why you wanted to, but I knew you always would..."

Theo shut his eyes the moment Harry laced his finger through his hair. He refused to trust himself to speak for fear of ruining what Theo would consider possibly the most infuriatingly heightened situation his senses had ever been put through.

"Ever since I lost Hermione it feels like I've been slowly suffocating and it doesn't matter if I'm alone in that Cottage or fighting by Ron's side, it doesn't go away…" Theo tensed as he felt Harry's nose gently graze his, pausing to rest his forehead against his, adding, "I don't know why it's different with you… it's the first time I've felt like I can breathe again."

They remained with their foreheads rested on the others, each afraid of what the slightest of movement would cause the other to do. He could feel Harry's heartbeat racing beneath his fingers where they were firmly gripping the fabric of his shirt over his chest, knowing that keeping them there was safe. It was better if they kept things as they were. Less complicated. Clearly, neither of them needed complicated right now. Theo had tortured himself by running down the road of 'what ifs' too many times where Harry Potter is concerned, and right now, being as vulnerable as he appeared, it was certainly not the right time to dig up that terrorizing hole of disappointment—

"Sometimes I wonder if it was my fault for not asking you for more… if I should have kept you from walking away…"

Theo knew he needed to do exactly that, again.

"Harry…" Theo managed to breath out, as Harry pulled him closer until Harry was flush between him and the counter.

It felt like torture, holding back the urge to kiss him, but Theo couldn't help but wonder if he was only saying these things, reaching for him for comfort because he was still confused and hurting. Theo was by no means a good person when it came to respecting peoples feelings and with anyone else he wouldn't have thought twice about taking what he wanted, but this wasn't just anyone—

"I hated you for kissing me. I hated you because I never stopped wondering... I would have been fine without ever knowing what I was missing. I tried to forget— I even convinced myself that I wanted someone else, because you never once acted like you wanted anything from me—"

Theo's response was pounding inside his head, begging to come out— the words that were stuck somewhere deep inside his chest, lodged in his throat: _'I didn't want anything from you, Potter. I just wanted you... any version I could get'_

Theo let out a bitter laugh instead, dropping his head to Harry's shoulder. "Why are you telling me all of this _now_, Harry?"

"I don't know." Harry's voice sounded hallow, defeated, reminding Theo of just how much pain he was in— that he shouldn't do anything Harry might later resent him for. "It shouldn't matter, but if it still does— to you then... you should know, I think—"

Theo slowly tilted his head, bringing his nose to graze the skin of Harry's throat, tracing upward along his jaw and stood to his full height so that he could stare down at him. And as he watched Harry's eyes fluttered shut he wondered if it would matter— in the grand scheme of things— if it would make the slightest difference if he took advantage of how the wizard before him was feeling, if there was no real beginning or end for them, what did it matter? He should take what he wanted, what Harry seemed to be offering in his moment of vulnerability...

But he couldn't...

If Theo learned anything from the past torturous years of longing for Harry Potter, it was that he wanted more than the broken pieces of him... he wanted the full pieces as well, and the pieces he hadn't yet discovered and would one day search for with someone else... he wanted to be that someone else. _When the fuck had Theo let himself think he could ask for more when he had nothing to give in return?_

Theo took a step backward, forcing himself to turn away as he cleared his throat.

"I should, um— I should check in with Blaise. He and Luna needed me earlier to help prepare for her leaving and— I should go—"

He didn't turn around for fear of changing his mind once his eyes landed on the pain stricken version of the boy he loved for more than half of his life. He wasn't surprised when Harry didn't call after him... not this time.

* * *

Luna hadn't imagined to find Harry Potter stumbling into the sitting room she was in, but stumbling slightly he appeared to be, stopping short when he noticed she was sitting in a small chair across the room with Ollivander laying on a small cot beside her.

"He's feeling better now. I think he may have had an allergic reaction to the dungeons."

She hardly noticed as Harry stuttered some semblance of an answer and slowly moved to join her. Her mind had been in a lovely day dream moments before he entered and was still residing there as Ollivander sensed his presence and began to sit up. Luna heard them greet one another, though she focused primarily on giving the older man the biscuits she found in the kitchens. She remembered that he enjoyed them most from the smaller portions they received whilst being dungeon mates. He had even given her his biscuit on her birthday, she had turned seventeen some weeks ago. The small gesture did seem to sadden him, so Luna assumed it was because he was very fond of his biscuit, but had nothing else to offer as a present.

"How are you feeling?"

Ever the worrier, Harry Potter, felt it necessary to consider the elder wizards feelings, though Luna was certain she noticed a yellow vibrancy bubbling somewhere within him. As she studied him a moment longer she recognized what the bubbling meant.

"Harry wants to ask you something, but he's not sure you'll want to answer him."

Luna smiled over at Harry, not entirely sure why he felt the need to clarify what she had said aloud.

"Oh— er, well... yes. I was hoping to ask you some questions, actually."

"By all means, Mr. Potter. I would be glad to assist you, if I am of any use. You know, my mind isn't as sharp as before... but I am willing to try." Ollivander gave Harry a forced smile, there was a similar bubbling of orange vibrancy radiating within Ollivander, she noticed, but after sensing Harry's discomfort for speaking on it, she decided whatever hesitance Ollivander held to help Harry would be apparent soon enough. She sat back in her chair and listened to their conversation with mild interest.

She heard Harry mention something about that particularities of a wand he stumbled upon after his was broken, questioning why Ollivander would believe they had a mind of their own. She held her tongue, sensing her input on the topic unnecessary. It wasn't until she sensed the conversation shift, Harry's tone shifted as well which she found peculiar, particularly as he mentioned the Deathly Hallows.

"You're lying."

Luna was uncertain what had caused Ollivander's shoulders to become tense; though, she had studied him closely over the past months to know that he was upset.

"You know one exists." Harry continued, "You told him about it. You told him about the Elder Wand and where he could go looking for it."

Luna tilted her head to the side, regarding Harry instead, wondering why his question would suddenly cause Ollivander discomfort.

"He tortured me... besides only conveyed rumors... there's...there's no telling whether he would find it."

"He has found it, sir."

Ollivander was silent, avoiding meeting Harry's careful stare, seemingly lost in a thought... Luna recognized the black fog behind his tired eyes and knew the thought was not a pleasant one.

"Would you know of any reason it wouldn't be responding to him?"

A peculiar question, Luna noted.

Ollivander lifted his gaze then, brow pulled together in concentration as he rasped out, "It is as I said, Mr. Potter. The wand chooses the wizard, but as its previous owner is deceased there should be no reason for it to not respond to his magic." The was a heavy pause as Harry leaned forward, sensing Ollivander wasn't finished. "Unless..."

"Unless...?" Harry repeated.

"Well... it is possible its allegiance has fallen elsewhere, though there are many varying factors that could cause this to happen. Impossible to determine based on the little I know of it's history..."

Luna watched as Harry stood.

"Thank you, sir. I'll let you rest." After a moment, Harry turned to leave. Luna stood to follow after him with a question of her own, but they were both stopped as Ollivander spoke suddenly.

"He's after you, Mr. Potter. If he has the Elder Wand, then I'm afraid you don't stand a chance, it's allegiance bound to him or otherwise."

Luna glanced to see Harry's face void of any emotion as he lifted a brow. "I suppose I'll just have to kill him before he finds me then."

He was through the door in the next instant. Luna smiled briefly back at Ollivander, letting him know she would return shortly, though the old man still seemed to be considering the black fog of thoughts consuming him.

"Harry Potter." She called down the hall. She jogged lightly and stopped as he turned to face her.

"Yes, Luna?" He asked, regarding her as she seemed out of breath.

"I have a question as well. If it's alright with you?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"How is it that you know?"

Harry frowned, tilting his head slightly. "Know what?"

"That the Elder Wand may not be responding to You-Know-Who." Luna explained, "You asked Ollivander why it wouldn't be responding to him..."

"Well... it's complicated." He responded quickly, but after a moment of studying her curious expression he sighed, "Sometimes I can... _see_ things."

Luna only blinked, unsure why he had stopped his explanation. She assumed for dramatic pause.

"I can see inside You-Know-Who's mind. I've seen flashes and I-I think the wand is rejecting him as it's rightful owner. It's just a hunch really, nothing I've considered at length, but I figured I would ask Ollivander seeing as he know's much more about wand-lore than anyone..."

She nodded, glancing above Harry's head, knowing if she had her Spectrespecs she would certainly find an entire swarm of wrackspurts. She smiled at him, noting his discomfort with her silence.

"Well, if you have noticed in the small flashes revealed to you I would think He-Who-Should-Not-be-Named has noticed too. I would assume whomever the wand does answer to could of be great value to both of you. It's just a matter of determining who... "

After several moments of neither of them saying anything, as she seemed to have placed Harry under a trance of sorts, even without her wand (she often made the mistake of doing this, leaving witches and wizards to stand completely still, blinking at her in confusion until she spoke once more)...

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"Thanks." Harry said, frowning. "Nott mentioned you were leaving. Where will you go?"

"I've plans to visit my father. Ollivander will be joining me as well and then I'll be returning to Hogwarts."

"Are you sure that's safe? Why not stay here?"

"I do love what Theo has done with the place. He's quite the nester. It truly feels like a home, but I'm needed at Hogwarts. Soon you all will be too."

"What makes you think that?"

Luna considered his question. "I suppose I'm like you. Sometimes I can see things, though it's more of a feeling, so perhaps it's better if I say that sometimes I can _sense_ things. My mother could too." With that, Luna felt it best to end the conversation to allow Harry to sort through the foggy confusion settling above him. "I should make sure Ollivander hasn't choked on the biscuits. Theo may be an excellent decorator, but a baker he isn't. The biscuits are a bit dry."

She turned on her heel, and skipped away from a very confused looking Harry Potter.

* * *

To say that things were awkward would be a terrible understandment, not that the blonde haired witch standing near the foyer had any inclination to be aware of this fact. Luna Lovegood was bidding her goodbyes to everyone with a bright smile. The witch was completely ignorant to the heated glare radiating from Ron as he watched Hermione and Draco slowly descend the staircase together, stopping at the foot of the stairs with Draco's hand casually skating across the small of her back to guide her and then falling to his side— she also missed the glances that Harry and Theo were attempting to hide from one another every time the other looked away. It would seem the blonde witch was entirely oblivious to it all, or so Blaise thought.

"Well, we'll be going then." She announced and turned to Draco with a soft smile, leaning forward slightly. "You two got rid of the Warmpgrindles, I see."

Blaise stifled his smirk behind his fist as his best friend cleared his throat uncomfortably, shifting away from Hermione to open the door for Luna.

Draco folded his arms across his chest, "Yes, well, stay safe Lovegood. We'll meet again soon."

"Sooner than you think." She confirmed, moving past him to stand on the porch next to Ollivander, who was nervously glancing up at the sky. "Good luck Harry Potter."

Harry lifted his hand to wave back, though he still looked unsettled with her leaving, but realized quickly there was no way to change the witches mind. "You too Luna."

"Wait— you're certain about this Luna?" Hermione asked, "You haven't even told us where you'll go."

"Lovegood's father is waiting for her in a graveyard." Draco explained simply, shrugging as Hermione just blinked at him.

"And then I'll be returning to Hogwarts."

"What? Why? Luna, it isn't safe to return now. Not with Snape as head master." Hermione countered, glancing behind her at Harry for support, perhaps, but found none as Potter only shrugged, mumbling that he's already had this conversation.

"The castle needs me I think."

Just as the witch was about to leave Blaise felt Ron shove past him to join her. "Wait up Luna—"

"Ron. What are you doing?" Hermione asked as he reached for Luna's arm.

"They can't just go alone, 'Mione. I told you, it's different out there now." He glanced from her to Harry, whose gaze was set to the floor not saying a word. Hermione glanced from Harry to Ron several times, expecting one of them to explain what was happening.

"But you'll come back, won't you?" She asked nervously.

Blaise was calculating if he should be preparing for a fight between Ron and Hermione or Ron and Draco, as both seemed to be daring Ron to answer incorrectly. Luckily for him, Ron simply shrugged.

The look on Hermione's face fell into an expression Blaise was certain he never wanted to be on the receiving end of.

"It's obvious that I'm not wanted here Hermione and you two don't seem to be itching to leave anytime soon." Ron spat, glaring at Draco and then back at Harry who had finally lifted his gaze. "Am I wrong?"

Other than Potter's jaw slightly clench, he gave no other response.

Ron frowned, sounding defeated as he nodded. "That's what I thought."

"Ron, please— just—" Hermione glanced around their small group, and turned to Luna. "Luna, do you mind delaying for another moment while I speak to Ron?"

"I'm in no hurry."

Hermione nodded, offering her a small smile and didn't hesitate to push past Draco through the large doors and grip Ron's arm, not caring that he was grumbling the entire time.

Blaise sighed loudly, "Well… things just keep getting more interesting around here, don't they?"

"Not in my opinion," Luna answered without missing a beat, "—ever since the Goblins left things have been quite dull."

"Shouldn't you be gallivanting after Weaslebee too, Potter?" Draco asked, eyeing the less animated version of Harry.

Theo clapped his hands together, announcing, "I don't know about you beautiful bastards, but I could use a drink."

"Now there's an idea I can get behind." Blaise agreed.

"Potter?" Theo asked with a nod towards the kitchens.

Draco and Blaise both shared a glance as they watched the two stare at one another for a stretch of a moment. Apparently the length of time became too unsettling for Draco and he moved to stand between them, turning to Harry, "You look like you could use a fucking drink more than anyone, Potter. Besides it's rude to refuse your host. Whisky or scotch?"

Blaise felt as shocked as Potter looked at the invitation— well certainly less surprised by the invitation and more of who it had come from— but only hesitated a moment before stammering out a response, glancing over at Theo before answering.

"Um, firewhisky will do. Yea. Thanks."

"Fucking fantastic." Blaise said cheerily as he moved to follow Draco into the kitchens, calling over his shoulder. "Lovegood— You in? One round before you hit the road?"

"Of course she is." Theo said, following behind them. "When has Lovegood ever refused a drink?"

"Never." Luna answered simply, glancing behind her to see Ollivander settle into the couch near the door waving her to leave him behind. "Though, I'm certain it's only because you've never offered."

Theo paused, turning on his heel, "Ah, suppose that was due to your being a prisoner for a short time, hmm?"

"That is correct."

"Pity." Theo continued on, "Well, no matter. What time is better than the present to mend burning bridges."

"Oh, if were to be committing any form of arson I'd like to inform the Billywigs before doing so—"

"I like where your heads at, as per usual Lovegood—" Theo said moving to wrap his arm around her shoulders as they walked towards the others who were watching them wearily, "—but unfortunately, we won't be burning any _literal_ bridges tonight." Lifting a finger in her direction he added, "That's not to say any other night is out of the question, as I am always open to discovering the insanity that is the happenings inside that brilliant mind of yours, and something tells me that— ah, thank you kind sir—" Theo reached for the glass Draco extended to him, handing it to Luna and then grabbing his own, "—as I was saying, something tells me the way you do arson and the way any common, monotonous person would preform the same delinquency are two separate phenomenons entirely—"

"Nott—" Blaise interrupted, lifting his glass. "Stop talking."

"See—" Theo leaned towards Luna, "—prime example of your common, monotonous person— lack of any imagination in its purest form. I'm certain his preferred idea of arson includes a nice campfire and marshmallows that expand into the shapes of fucking unicorns the moment they absorb the cocoa—"

"I hadn't thought of brining marshmallows. That seems a rather lovely addition for attempted arson."

Theo pulled away, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Attempted? No, Lovegood. I do not _attempt_ to do things— I simply do them and then they are done. Brilliantly? Always. Flawlessly? Less often, but that's not important. You're missing the point entirely—"

"That's because there isn't one." Draco drawled, pulling his glass to his lips as he moved to sit on the sofa near the piano.

Theo was opening his mouth to respond when the sound of Harry snorting at Draco's comment made him pause. He tilted his head at the wizard who was nervously wiping at the liquid running down his chin. Harry glanced up to see Theo staring at him and shrugged.

"What?" Harry glanced from him to Draco and Blaise, who were regarding him in a similar fashion.

"Nothing." Theo quickly stammered out, clearing his throat, deciding that maybe his point no longer needed to be made as much as he needed to swallow the entire contents of his drink.

"So..." Blaise drawled as he leaned against the piano, "...anyone wanna wager how many bruises Weasley comes back with after his chat with our fiery little Gryffindor?"

"Two— oh, wait, actually— put me down for three and a scar from a hex for good measure." Theo said, rubbing the side of his head. "My head's still tender from the last time she hit me."

"Probably deserved it." Harry mumbled into his glass before taking a sip.

"Definitely deserved it." Blaise confirmed, trying his best to cover his intrigue at Potter's sudden desire to accumulate himself in their discussion without any resentment.

Even Draco seemed to smirk at this and Blaise wondered if Hermione was having as much luck with Ron outside…

* * *

Hermione paced after Ron through the muddy field, not concerning herself with the mess she was making of her pants and boots. His strides were much longer than hers, causing her to practically jog after him.

"Ron!" She called through her heavy breaths. "Ron, please. Just slow down!"

He spun on his heel, bringing them face to face. He gripped her arms tightly. Hermione could see the dark circles beneath his bloodshot eyes. She wondered when he had been crying. A small twinge of guilt bubbling in her stomach wondering if it had been while she was with Draco.

"I thought about you everyday Hermione." He confessed without allowing her to catch her breath first. "I thought about how different that night could have gone for us. If I had been quicker to disarm Bellatrix— if I hadn't left— if Harry and I hadn't been fighting in the first place—"

"Ron—"

"No." He shook his head. "Let me finish. You think I want to leave you after I just got you back? Of course I don't, but things aren't the same as before. Harry's not the same."

"Then tell me." Hermione begged, reaching to lace her fingers with his. "Tell me what happened so I can understand— Don't do this again, Ron— You can't just leave—"

"DONT!" He roared. "I'M NOT LEAVING BECAUSE OF SOME PETTY JEALOUSY BECAUSE OF A CURSED LOCKET OR—OR—"

"Ron, calm down." Hermione pleaded again. "Just tell me so I can understand."

She watched his shoulders rise and fall rapidly as he staggered backwards, his eyes glossing over as he focused on something that she couldn't see.

"Ron…"

"Harry and I haven't spoken for weeks 'Mione…" He finally admitted, bringing his heavy gaze to lock onto hers.

"I-I don't understand… I saw you— both of you at the Cottage—"

"I didn't abandon him, but I couldn't take it anymore 'Mione— not when— not while my family—"

Ron lifted his hands over his head, resting them on top as he turned to look out over the empty field. Hermione took a slow step forward, wrapping her arms around herself, suddenly feeling the need to hold onto something.

"Harry and I thought you were dead— and it wasn't the same after that. He couldn't even look at me, let alone talk and when he did he would just lash out and eventually it was like he'd given up. He'd refuse to leave the Cottage or even think about continuing with what we started with the Horcrux hunt. It didn't matter what I said, or Bill or Remus… he refused to listen. When Nott came to the Cottage with you… well, that's the first time I've seen him look even remotely like my best friend."

Ron turned to her, his expression softening.

"Losing you hurt like hell, 'Mione— it hurt both of us, but it broke him. He hasn't been Harry in months and I… I wasn't any in better shape to try and piece us both back together."

"But I'm here now, Ron…" Hermione said, wiping at the tears that had begun long before he had finished. "It can be like it was…"

"Yeah." Ron released a breath, a sad smile twitched on the corner of his mouth as he dropped his head. "I don't know…"

"I lost you two, too, you know. I lost my best friends and all I thought about every moment was finding my way to find you both—"

The look of disbelief on his face as he glared at her made her stop short.

"That's unlikely from what I've pieced together in there—"

"W-What are you—"

"Oh, please 'Mione… just because you think I'm an idiot doesn't mean I can't see the way Malfoy looks at you and that you don't seem to mind in the slightest—"

"Ronald, please— this has nothing to do with Draco—"

"Ugh— DON'T— JUST SAVE IT." Ron growled, moving to walk towards the Manor. Hermione grabbed his arm before he could get past her and he stopped, glaring down at her. "I can't be here— you aren't even you anymore—"

"I'm still me and so is Harry! Why are you being like this?" She asked, slightly breathless with the need to fall apart.

"Because Mums a mess, Hermione! Dad… he's just as bad— having to go through what they did with Bill, and now—" He swallowed a shaky breath, the sight of it sliced through Hermione's chest. "—now, Charlie—"

He could barely grit out his brother's name without shutting his eyes and Hermione was moving towards him in an instant, wrapping her arms so tightly around him, not caring that he wrapped his arms around her twice as tightly… Hermione could feel her heart breaking within her chest for him. She mumbled soft apologizes as he sobbed into her shoulder— she apologized for what he lost, for her absence through it all…

He kept his arms wrapped around her for longer than he intended, but she didn't mind. Eventually, he pulled away from her, his hands moving from her waist to place them on either side of her tear-stained face.

"They need me 'Mione. Mum and dad… It's why I left Harry at the Cottage, too… they needed me."

Hermione nodded, her chest tightening as his words settled somewhere in the back of her mind, she didn't want to accept them, not yet. His eyes scanned over her features and his frown faded into something she wasn't sure she recognized on his usual soft features. It seemed vacant almost, like he was remembering a ghost and not looking into the eyes of his best friend.

"You're different…" He finally said, hardly above a whisper. "I can't explain it, but it's true."

"Different bad?" She managed to choke out.

He shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes on hers, seeming to search them for the familiarity he felt they no longer held. "No… just different."

Hermione swallowed, "I don't want you to go."

He gently pushed pieces of her hair behind her ears, glancing towards the Manor and then back down to her trembling lip tucked beneath her tooth.

"Seems like you don't need me, 'Mione… maybe you never have."

"Don't say that! Of course I do! Y-You're my b-best friend— You… You and Harry— it's always been the three of us—"

"Not always." Ron dropped his hands from her face.

Hermione felt something growing inside her then, something she recognized earlier when they spoke after she had woken and he shouted at her: guilt; a guilt she unknowingly had been forced to carry for abandoning them, placed on her shoulders by Ron, intentionally or not.

"…and certainly not now! You've let Malfoy convince you he's all of a sudden stopped being a spoiled, murderous pain in the arse—" he continued, flinging his arm in the direction of the Manor, "—and Harry… I can't take another moment of him feeling sorry for himself when every second there's the possibility that someone in my family has been captured or killed for being associated with him!

"And the worst part of it is that it's like he's completely shut off— he refused to talk about you after what happened at the Manor— or anything for that matter— I know I shouldn't blame him, 'Mione, I know… he didn't ask for any of this. He's been my best friend for years so I know all of that, but— whoever that person is in there, whoever he became after loosing you… that's not my best friend. And I'm tired of choosing someone who has given up over being with my family— maybe if I was with them when— maybe if I had been there sooner when Charlie…"

Ron's entire body was shaking now, his face burning in a red fury as he stood before her.

"I just need to be with them." He finally concluded, his shoulders dropping. "I want to see Ginny, Fred, George and I want to hold Mum's hand… I want to let her grip as tight as she needs to when Bill asks her who she is for the tenth time, after she's spent hours of showing him photos of the two of them— photos of her giving birth to her first son, photos of him and his little brothers that he helped raise— photos his first visit to Diagon Alley and his first quidditch match—and when she smiles over at him… and tells him that she loves him and he can't even remember where he is let alone who she is—"

He shut his eyes then, trembling as a shaky breath escaped him.

"I need to be there so she can squeeze my hand as tight as she can so that she can smile instead of cry… because she hasn't given up— she's the strongest person I know, but knowing that I've abandoned her after she's practically lost two sons already—"

Hermione lifted her fingers to reach for him, but paused as he took a step back shaking his head.

"I can't do this again."

Hermione was speechless, the only sounds coming from her were soft sobs as she reached for him again, only for him to take another step back— and she felt like he had literally ripped her heart from her chest and placed it beneath the heel of his foot as he let it sink into the earth.

"I love you Hermione." He said firmly. "I always have. I'm not saying goodbye— I'm not, because I know you'll help remind Harry there's still something worth fighting for, and when you do you know I'll be there… me and my family will always be there for the both of you— Just be careful with trusting Malfoy. I won't say anymore about it, but just be careful."

Somehow she found the strength to speak, feeling her window of opportunity to change his mind was closing, if there ever was one—

"Ron… you can't leave like this— with the two of you like this and I-I just got you back—"

The last of her words seemed to give him a reason to pause. With every breath he took, letting the silence stretch, she felt her hope stretching just as thin, to the point where she felt it would rip into pieces if he waited another moment to respond.

"Please… Don't do this."

"I'm sorry." And it was with those two words that Ron had succeeded with diminishing whatever hope was left… "My family needs me." He glanced towards the Manor and started walking towards it, mumbling, "...and it's quite clear that you and Harry don't... not anymore."

* * *

Harry excused himself from the others after his first drink to move into the large living area, watching Hermione and Ron from the window. He thought a drink would help take his mind off things, but it only seemed to force him to focus on the absence of his two best friends even more. Eventually, Ron came back in, leaving Hermione standing in the open field with her arms wrapped around herself. Though her back was to Harry he knew if he went out to join her he would find her eyes swollen and cheeks stained with tears.

"You're leaving then?" Harry asked the moment Ron came walking through the foyer and into the living area.

Ron turned to find Harry standing a few feet away near the window, watching him. He was silent a moment, but eventually nodded. He took a few steps forward once Harry turned back to the window.

"Look, Harry—" Ron started, but the sound of the doors to the kitchens opened revealing Luna with the others trailing behind her, stopping him from finishing his sentence.

"Where's Hermione?"

Harry didn't have to look at Ron to know he was glaring at the blond wizard who came waltzing over to them.

"She doesn't want to be bothered by you."

"Well," Harry said without taking his eyes from the window, "I guess you should get going then."

"You're seriously going to trust them, aren't you?" Ron asked, "Have you truly decided to suddenly start caring again just to risk everything by turning to these snakes instead of your best mate?"

Harry turned to him then, "I haven't suddenly _decided_ anything Ron—"

"That's right," Ron scoffed, folding his arms firmly across his chest. "You haven't decided anything! Not a single thing in months— You've done _nothing_—"

"I think we should get going before it gets too dark," Luna chimed in, but Ron's voice easily overpowered her own.

"—meanwhile my entire family is out there believing that they're actually risking their lives for someone who actually gives a—"

The rest of Ron's sentence was cut short as Theo stepped in front of him, one hand wrapped aggressively around Ron's collar and his wand digging into his throat as he shoved him back against the wall.

"Say another word, Weasley, and I'll summon your vocal chords from your throat so slowly that you'll choke on them before I finish ripping them from your larynx—"

"Theo. Leave the Weasel be." Draco drawled lazily somewhere behind them.

"And you—" Ron spat at Draco, ignoring Theo's wand digging deeper into his throat. "—I should make you pay for what you did to Bill!"

"I'm trembling with fear..." Draco responded, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

As Ron opened his mouth to speak again Theo smirked, "I'd think twice before responding, mate. I've still got your wand and you're a tad outnumbered."

"Don't waste your breath, Nott. He's made it perfectly clear what he thinks." Harry said with hardly any emotion.

"Do you even care if you die anymore?" Ron asked, roughly pushing against Theo's hold. "Is that it? Are you hoping Malfoy will take you right to You-Know-Who and it can all be over? That's a cowards move, Harry—"

Ron grunted as Theo shoved him back against the wall again. Harry didn't even look at the two as he walked past them towards the door. "If you're going to leave then just go already."

As Harry shut the door behind him he heard Draco telling Theo to let Ron go and Luna add another comment about it getting dark. He didn't bother with trying to make out what Ron was saying, instead he shoved his feet through the thick mud over to where Hermione stood.

It wasn't that Harry wanted Ron to leave, but he didn't particularly not want him to either. If he left, at least Harry knew he would be with his family and probably more safe than where he imagined he and Hermione were heading. She was still determined as ever and if Harry was honest, knowing that she still believed him had sparked the hope inside him he had thought he forgot how to feel. He could feel it again just by being in her presence. His thoughts concerning her ever since they left the Manor laid heavily within him, but now, as he moved towards her he felt the weight begin to lessen, if only slightly.

He didn't need to announce himself. The moment he stopped beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist, she folded into him effortlessly, burying her tear stained cheeks into his shoulder.

It was never something he could put into words exactly, but when it came to their friendship he felt as if they were tethered to one another, almost like two magnets. Whenever he would enter a crowded room, his eyes were drawn to search her out... as if he couldn't truly feel comfortable until he placed her within the crowd. He assumed it was mostly to do with how much they had been through together, and now being the only family either of them had left. He wondered if that was why he understood Ron's desire to return to his family now. What Hermione and Harry were to one another, Ron had with his real family. But to Harry, he thought his sense of needing Hermione may even run a bit deeper— maybe because he had never truly known what it was like to have a family love him unconditionally— Voldemort had taken that from him every time he thought he would get close to knowing what that would even feel like.

"He's gone, hasn't he?"

Hermione's soft whisper tore him from his somber thoughts. He tightened his hold around her shoulders, terrified of little else in that moment besides the thought of loosing her.

"Afraid so..." Harry responded after several slow breaths. He felt her lift her chin to rest it on top of his shoulder.

"He'll come back to us." She nodded firmly, leaning back slightly, the weary expression on her face revealed to Harry how uncertain she was in the words coming out of her mouth. "He always finds his way back."

"Yeah... yeah, he does."

Harry forced a small smile, not able to admit that he thought this time may be different— that Harry had been so selfish in his need to mourn loosing her to the point that Ron could no longer recognize him.

She pulled him close again and he focused on the sound of her soft breaths as he watched the sun began to sink off in the distance. It felt like an eternity passed in their silent comforting of one another, though it had probably only been a few minutes. The sound of a 'pop' echoed behind them, forcing them both to part, turning alert in the direction it came from.

"Granger!" Pansy called out as she began jogging towards them, "—Good! You're feeling better! We'll be needing that giant brain of yours—" Pansy glanced at Harry, "I suppose your assistance won't be unnecessary either."

"What happened to you? Is that blood?" Hermione asked, moving towards Pansy to examine her closely.

The dark haired witch waved her hand, "Oh, that— that's nothing... just a minor scratch, really. I'm afraid the others weren't as lucky—"

"Others?"

As the questions came out of Harry's mouth several 'pops' sounded around the field. Harry immediately reached for Hermione's arm, pulling her behind him.

"Oh, do calm down Potter—" Pansy rolled her eyes. "No need to be so dramatic. They're with us."

"Who are they?" Hermione asked as she and Harry took in the scattered figures approaching across the field; most of them appearing similar in age and their clothes equally as tattered and covered with blood and dirt.

Pansy glanced back at them both, a proud smirk pulling on her full lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well Granger, you're looking at my army."

"Don't you mean _our_ army, darling?" Daphne added as she trudged closer to them.

"I suppose every Alpha needs a Beta." Pansy remarked slyly, wrapping her arm around Daphne's waist before turning back to Harry and Hermione. "Well, don't just stand there you two... we've got injuries to tend to—"

Harry and Hermione shared a weary glance as a total of ten others came to join them as they trudged towards the Manor, some of them limping and some helping the others to remain upright. They both heard whispers coming from what appeared to be twins, a girl and a boy, probably no older than fifteen years old—

—_that's Harry Potter... _one said as the other responded_, duh, told you the bitch wolf wasn't lying—_

"Wait— some of them are severely hurt— what happened?" Hermione called after Pansy.

"Greyback happened." Pansy replied offhandedly, shoving the large wooden doors open. "Oh Dracoooooo—"

"When you say Greyback happened—" Harry asked, but Pansy was already halfway through the foyer and out of sight.

Daphne turned around, motioning for the others to follow Pansy towards the living area. Hermione took a step back as Harry did the same to let them pass. Harry tried to decipher if he recognized any of them, but could hardly take in their appearance as they shuffled past him.

"She's not one for explanations, that one." Daphne said after they all limped through. "These are our recruits. Our contribution to the cause. Greyback called a mandatory gathering to prepare for Friday. Pansy and the others were forced to 'train', which really just means fighting one another until Greyback feels he's seen enough blood."

"What's happening Friday?"

Daphne frowned, "He's planning to attack Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? Why?"

"Because You-Know-Who thinks he has control over the castle..." Hermione said, more to herself than to either of them. "...if Greyback can take Hogwarts—"

"The Dark Lord's followers will find him weak." They all turned to see Draco walking into the foyer then, his gaze finding Hermione's immediately, softening mildly. "Alright, Granger?"

Hermione nodded, offering him a small smile, a blush rising to her cheeks.

It took Harry a moment to blink out his dazed confusion watching the interaction.

"Daph— Theo and Blaise need a hand tending to some of their injuries. I'll be along in a minute."

Daphne nodded and started towards the kitchens.

"I can help, we'll probably need to start brewing a few more healing and blood replenishing potions." Hermione offered, moving to join her.

"Hermione, wait." Draco said, reaching out to grip her hand, almost affectionately in his gentleness, Harry noticed.

"What is it?"

"I think we should leave for Gringott's tonight... Assuming the Dark Lord took my warning he'll be expecting the attack, it's only a matter of time before the Dark Lord summons me and Theo."

"Tonight?" Hermione repeated, glancing nervously at Harry who was watching Draco closely, sensing his discomfort every time he met his stare; becoming increasingly aware that Draco had yet thrown an insult or a snide comment his way since he arrived.

"I promised I would get you into my Aunt's vault, Hermione. I can't do that if I die fighting off werewolves now can I?"

"Right," Hermione nodded, her expression turning into the familiar look of concentration. "Right, I'm sorry— I just— I don't know why I thought we'd have more time to come up with a plan."

"We'll sort it out." Harry offered before nodding towards the kitchens. "Go help the others. I'd like to talk to Malfoy, if that's alright with him?"

Draco shifted from one foot to the other, clenching his jaw as he cleared his throat."Ehm— sure, Potter... Go on, Granger— we'll be along shortly."

Harry nodded one last time at his best friend as she glanced between them. He knew her desire to help the others would win out over her desire to hear what Harry had to say, and eventually she turned to leave them alone in the foyer.

"Perhaps we should move into Theo's study." Draco offered quickly, clearly uncomfortable with the lingering silence in Hermione's absence.

"Lead the way..."

* * *

**Malfoy Manor**

Narcissa Malfoy stood before the labyrinth laced within her gardens, her chin lifted high, allowing the cool afternoon breeze to filter across her face, enjoying the sensation for its distraction from her many thoughts. She felt it necessary to return to this very spot to remind her of the reasons behind her choices; choices that led the love for her husband to evaporate into a shadow of it's former glory, in hopes that whatever she had left to give, she could blanket her son with it and protect him at all costs. It was ironic to remind herself that Lucius had gifted Narcissa these very gardens as an anniversary gift, the same day Draco was born, and she had, in turn, gifted Draco the security of these same gardens for his own secrets.

She closed her eyes and lifted her fingers to graze over the green shrubbery, the soft petals beneath her fingertips taking her mind through an old memory…

_Mother, why not use the elves to tend to the gardens? We'll be at this for hours if we don't even use magic! You promised you'd let me practice while father was away!_

Narcissa opened her eyes, the memory of her son's voice allowing her to imagine his eleven year old self before her, walking confidently through the maze with her garden clippers.

_And if you are without an elf or without magic, Draco… what will you do then, hm?_

_Without magic? Why would I ever be without magic? Father says once I have my wand I will never part with it. He says it will become another limb— apart of me. _

_Nothing is promised forever, dear. _

The corporeal image she conjured of her son vanished then. She felt the warm liquid slowly roll down her cheek and quickly wiped its presence away. She moved deeper into the maze, thinking of how detailed her son had been while drawing this very place the first time she asked him to think of a safe to place for his thoughts. He had traced the path with an accurate precision, down to the exact location of each flower and root. Her heart felt heavy with the memory as she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with a somber kind of happiness that this was the place he had chosen. He had not chosen any place within their home, but the one place they shared, the one place that was completely theirs; her gardens…

"The last time you spent this much time out here was the day after we sent Draco off to Hogwarts… "

Narcissa turned around slowly, not surprised to find her husband watching her. He had clung to her side far more frequently in the last few days, out of fear or an attempt to make up for the time they wasted, she imagined.

"You've been avoiding me." He added, taking an unsteady step towards her, his cane supporting half his weight. His long pale hair was pulled back from his face, making him appear presentable enough for the company they were expecting, though the dark circles beneath her husbands eyes were a clear indicator to the lack of sleep he had been getting.

"Avoid you? Why would I ever wish for that my dear husband?"

Lucius frowned at his wife, not missing the lack of an attempt to hide her inability to even look him in the eye. He watched her move deeper into the labyrinth, groaning to himself as he forced his aching limbs to follow behind her. The potions she had been allowing him to take had been wearing off much quicker than normal, causing him to feel everything—

"You cannot carry on hating me, my love... not with our ending so near and my madness ever impending. It's entirely selfish of you."

Narcissa turned around so quickly that Lucius almost lost his balance. She narrowed her eyes sharply, nostrils flaring and Lucius was certain this was the most emotion he had gotten out of his wife in months.

"If you happen to give into your madness before my time is finished, one would think it just for my hating you, but if you think so little of my affections for you, my dear, you are mistaken, and you have forgotten the woman you wed, and you have forgotten about the sort of love of which I am capable."

It was then that Lucius felt a semblance of relief as her delicate fingers traced the side of his face. She had rid him of her touch for so long he was certain he no longer remembered how much he craved it, only that he did. Thought her touch was gentle, the sharpness in her features were not.

"Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear. Your mind is my treasure, and if it were to break, it would be my treasure still: if you go mad, Lucius, you will not find the release of death at the hand of our Dark Lord, but you will find my arms confined around you— your touch, even in fury, will always have a charm for me. It is this truth that proves to be my deepest joy and my greatest mistake."

Narcissa spoke the words so harshly, Lucius was uncertain if he should trust the tenderness they implied.

"Forgot not, my dear, that it has always been you, not I, who understands love only to the extent of the selfish love you accuse me of giving." Her fingers gripped his jaw tightly then, her nails curling into his skin. "Do not accuse me of hating you. It is because I do not that we find ourselves in the circumstances that we are, without our son.

Lucius sighed, not caring that her intent was to hurt him, only that she was willingly caressing his face. "You fault me still..."

"There is no fault to be placed." Narcissa dropped her hand from his face, turning on her heel to continue deeper into the maze. "What will be will come to pass, to blame anyone would be a wasted breath and as you so gloomily reminded me, we have so few left..."

"I take it you've visited the mudblood then." Lucius called out, limply chasing her. "If you think her so clever then what will stop her from piecing together the intentions of your visit? She will surely tell our son of her suspicions and he will want answers."

Narcissa stopped her stride with no intentions of turning around. She stared straight into the green hedged path.

"There's still time, my flower." Lucius begged behind her. "Once Draco learns you have stopped extracting the curse he will stop at nothing to save you. What comes of your plans for self sacrifice then? It all will be for not, and I will not allow it— I will not let you face such uncertainties alone— let me—"

"Enough!" Narcissa said firmly, moving forward once more with renewed vigor, knowing he would surely fall behind, unable to keep up with her determined strides. "Your efforts to repeat this conversation has bored me. I will hear no more of it."

Narcissa was so focused on escaping her husband, turning and circling through the maze, that she almost collided with a bright stream of light hurdling towards her, or perhaps galloping towards her was more accurate in describing its arrival. She lowered her wand from where she had it before her, and concentrated on the patronus that stopped just short of her, rising up onto its hind legs before settling onto all fours.

_It is time, Narcissa— _

_The Dark Lord has discovered needs to be done concerning the wand's allegiance. Come the next full moon he will see to being rid of me. If we do not have the fortune of seeing one another before he alerts you to join him here at Hogwarts, I wanted to remind you of my gratitude for your friendship. Everything I have ever found happiness in has been stripped of me, but when you placed your trust in me in regards to your son, I felt I found a new memory to pull from as I conjured this message, my last Patronus... my death will be of little importance, but I admit that I do not feel as alone as I once did in this endeavor knowing you will greet Death shortly after, and perhaps, if fate allows, we may meet again other side— _

Narcissa's breath caught in her chest as she staggered backwards, watching in awe as the incorporeal doe began to admit blue flames from its nostrils, and its form steadily grew larger, shifting its shape until the gentle creature burst into a thousand tiny specs, expanding outward and recoiling back together... the bright form no longer resembling any woodland creature, but taking on a wondrous, terrifying, and monstrous form of a Dragon. It lowered from the sky to hover before Narcissa and then twisted around her, causing a small tornado of wind to swirl her robes and hair, until it vanished above the hedged gardens rising to join the vast night sky.

The end of the message in Snape's calming voice still echoing around her...

_Until then..._

* * *

**A/N**: Throwing this out there: I love Ron's character. I am by no means a Ron hater and I hope it will eventually make sense why he wanted to leave. Anyways... until next time!


	17. Differences & Developments

As Harry followed behind Malfoy through, what felt like an endless amount of long hallways, he became increasingly aware that he was without a wand. It was difficult to ignore the bubbling anticipation and weariness he felt, though he couldn't be certain if this was a result of following someone, who until very recently, fought for and housed the very lunatic trying to kill him, or if the feeling was just heightened from his predictable level of paranoia that he knew would never fully disappear. The moment they stepped into what Draco had referred to as Theo's study, his previous concerns were silenced as he took in the state of the disastrous room before him.

"This— is Theo's study?" Harry's voice dripped with disbelief and mild amusement as his eyes couldn't seem to remain on one specific array of nonsense before noticing another.

The room wasn't as grand as the others, nor was it as tidy. Where the common room was crisp and warm with accents of comfort, this room was a chaotic mess with dark walls and possibly wooden floors? Harry couldn't be sure as there was hardly enough room to walk through the mess to be certain what was underneath. He saw papers tossed about over a black grand oak desk, papers that upon closer inspection Harry realized were sheets of music. Across from the desk sat a small balcony with French doors looking out over a dreary landscape, several torn apart canvas's littered the balcony. The longer he tried to make sense of the room the more he found it puzzling that it could even be considered a study— much more of a place of destruction and unfinished projects.

"An obvious result of a slightly fractured, mildly disturbed wealthy wizard with destructive habits and an attention span of a toddler." Draco clipped, waving his hand lazily around the mess, clearly not as interested in the state of the room, but rather watching Harry with a weary expression, leaning against the grand desk with his arms firmly draped across his chest. "Don't ask me why he doesn't just use magic to tidy it up— he claims it's got something to do with his aesthetic— cluttered desk equals a brilliant mind, or some bullocks."

Harry noticed an odd clay structure that appeared to have been hand made sitting amongst a pile of others. He heard something crunch beneath his foot, realizing he had stepped on one of the structures that seemed to oddly resemble Merlin himself, or what Harry would imagine him to look like, though now it was cracked beyond recognition and Harry quickly jerked his foot back.

"Er— didn't mean to break that—"

Draco rolled his eyes, flicking his wand to piece it back together— though Harry was certain not in the correct way, as Merlin's pointed hat now resided somewhere near his nether regions and his nose resided somewhere on the sculptures back— and placing it amongst the other meaningless rubble.

Harry awkwardly stepped over another pile of random trinkets— (_were those knitting needles?_)— and moved to the bookcase behind the desk, smirking to himself as he found several texts on muggle theatre— Shakespear being the only one he truly recognized. Tucked in a corner behind a wooden chair, leaning against the wall was an acoustic guitar and what looked like several empty bottles of Firewhisky discarded around it.

Harry's eyes flickered to the desk, recognizing Theo's messy scribble over the parchment, forcing him to remember the way his heart would pound nervously in his chest on the odd days he would receive a random note from Theo during dinner or charms, or on his way to quidditch practice— the messaging always vague, but able to cause Harry to blush with embarrassment as he scanned the school grounds hoping no one noticed him receiving the note…

* * *

_This is my third drafted note. _

_I wanted to write something witty or clever, but then you just walked pass me in your Quidditch uniform with that tosser captain of yours, Oliver Wood, and he was explaining something about 'going harder, faster, longer' and I couldn't resist to point this out (in case it slipped your observation, as we both know you're prone to miss the finer details)_

_You ride a stick chasing balls. _

_That's all._

_P.S. Try and not fall off your broom this time. It's only slightly more embarrassing than what I imagine your face will look like reading this note._

_xTVN_

**_Does this mean you've abandoned your hatred for Quidditch and you're finally going to come to a match?_**

**_xHJP_**

_Absolutely not._

_P. S. Are you going to completely ignore my perfectly crafted innuendo? Very rude, Potter. _

_xTVN_

**_Fine. You're hilarious. Happy?_**

**_xHJP_**

_Not sure. I'm not certain I would understand the feeling if I were._

_xTVN_

**_Maybe if you came to the match to see me ride the stick and chase the balls you might experience the feeling?_**

**_xHJP_**

_Points for gusto, but still a no._

_xTVN_

**_Because participating in something besides misery and self - loathing for more than an hour will kill you?_**

**_xHJP_**

_If you must know... by attending your silly little match then expectations will be had of me to attend other social gatherings that I'd rather peel my skin off than attend, such expectations that I am certain I could never live up to— therefore I am saving everyone involved from immense disappointment… add it to the long list of my selfless acts to be accomplished before noon._

_xTVN_

**_Being an extremist must be very draining._**

**_xHJP_**

_I believe you've mistaken me for the witch beside you, the one with the bird nesting amongst the bush upon her head— To be an extremist, Potter, I would have to have a singular political view that advocates extreme action… Now, I exist in a constant state of having multiple contradicting political views and when have I ever acted extreme? The answer: never. As for Granger, her entire existence is an extreme call for action. Perhaps you could suggest she act on the monstrosity that is her hair before freeing any elves, hm?_

_xTVN_

**_I give up…_**

**_See you after?_**

**_xHJP_**

_Depends._

_xTVN_

**_On…?_**

**_xHJP_**

_If you lose are you going to force me to listen to you describe the seven different illegal flying combinations Draco did to out fly you?_

_xTVN_

**_That was one time and were not even playing Slytherin._**

**_xHJP_**

_Midnight?_

_xTVN_

**_Midnight._**

**_xHJP_**

* * *

The memory of passing notes with Theo caused a light tingling sensation to spark to life within him, which was a much more welcome feeling than the continuous numbing he had endured the past several months. He traced his fingers over the sheet music where Theo's notes were scrawled in the margins, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried to picture him hunched over the parchment, focused for a moment before getting distracted by another project amongst the clutter.

"As I am certain you couldn't possibly understand Theo's interpretation of Tchaikovsky's 6 Symphonies, perhaps we can get this over with?" Draco drawled, causing Harry to drop the sheet music, heat rising to his cheeks with mild embarrassment for allowing himself to admire Theo's personal items at length in front of Malfoy.

He cleared his throat, nodding. "Er— right. Just, um— Nott's interests are a bit, um—"

"Eccentric?" Draco finished for him. "Yes, well, his flare for the dramatic's surpasses what anyone would consider fathomable, even those with the deepest proclivity for expanding ones imagination, including Lovegood, which— you know, is saying a lot."

Harry noticed a certain fondness in Malfoy's tone as he referred to Theo, causing him to pause.

"Look, Potter, if your intention for demanding an audience with me is to sort out our past animosities or tell me that you require an apology I'm afraid I've exhausted those efforts with Granger and have no desire to—"

"Why'd you do it?"

Draco frowned, standing up a little taller.

"You'll need to be more specific, Potter."

"You knew it was me. At the Manor that day the Snatchers brought us— you knew. You didn't say anything..." Harry took a step forward, "And Hermione? You saved her and I— well, I suppose it just hasn't registered for me yet… why you would… just doesn't seem to make any sense."

Draco felt his jaw twitch as Harry's gaze seemed to be slicing through the space between them, making his limbs suddenly feel heavy; though he did notice something strange happen within his mind that had never happened before… where his vines would normally attempt to slither forward or rattle and force him to hide them in response, they remained completely still, limp, as if he couldn't access them at all. Draco concentrated, only mildly distracted by what his mind was attempting to convey by not responding. Eventually, he felt something move and he latched onto it, desperate for some semblance of control if he were to continue this conversation with Harry Potter of all people.

"I'd say you owed me an explanation, but we were never friends or anything remotely close to it, really, so I suppose you don't owe me anything more than what you've already done— and plan to do if what Hermione's told me is true, and well—" Harry said, apparently taking Draco's silence as a refusal to answer. "I guess I just— what I'm trying to say… is thank you."

Draco swallowed then, still processing whether he should feel proud that he was finally receiving recognition from the glorious Chosen One, that he bested him in something for once, in keeping Hermione safe; but at the moment he really only felt perplexed.

"Hermione— well… she's irreplaceable and you kept her alive, so thank you. Whatever feud we have isn't enough to keep me from being grateful to you for that."

There was a brief moment where Draco felt the need to correct him.

To tell him that he hadn't told Bellatrix that he knew it was him because— sure, he hated the git, but that didn't mean he wanted his blood on his hands, and that Draco was honestly just terrified what would happen to his parents if anything went wrong… that it was really just him being a coward in the end that gave him the head start for his escape—

To tell him that his saving Hermione was strictly for selfish reasons and not some spark of righteousness he had been harboring deep down all this time— that saving Hermione was his selfish need to cling to the smallest of chances that he could finally make a choice that saved a life, rather than end one; a choice that, in turn, gave him purpose and showed him how different his life could be if he would make the difficult choices more often than the easier ones… if his father had done that to begin with Draco was certain everything would be different for them, for his mother—

Instead he said none of those things, because yeah, maybe he promised to help Potter, and yes, he was possibly, very much, developing feelings?— _something _ for his best friend, but that in no way meant that they were going to start swapping apologies and professing their deepest darkest secrets. Harry Potter was still a self-righteous and unfairly lucky git, and Draco wouldn't be swayed to believe any differently, thank you very much.

"I had enough blood on my hands… I was running out of skin to stain."

Of course, Potter being the git that he is, he laughs.

"I suppose that's as close to an understanding you and I will get."

Draco shoved away from the desk and turned to him then, lifting his chin as he often felt necessary around this particular wizard.

"Yes, well then, if your desire to address the remorse that is a direct causation from your overbearing hero complex has been met— we can now move forward with the more pressing matters…

"For example, oh, I don't know, the impending battle between the Dark Lord and Greyback that, as a result, will place innocent students lives in danger, not that I'm not typically concerned with such trivialities, as I do not have a hero-complex— but you on the other hand… " Draco waved his hand in the general direction of Harry's existence as he trailed off and turned, pacing before him as he continued, "Oh— And we can't forget the little side project Granger has recruited me for— the simple task of obtaining a piece of the Dark Lord's soul from a heavily guarded—"

"You've made your point, Malfoy."

Draco smirked, turning on his heel and placing his hands behind his back. "As I often prefer to do quickly."

"Noted." Harry nodded, growing slightly more annoyed with Draco, which was better than the emotionally unstable version in Draco's opinion. He can only feel so many things in one day, and he prefers if he's extending such feelings towards a certain witch instead of the short, vastly less attractive friend of hers frowning before him.

"Very well, then."

"So, what's the plan?"

Draco's smirk grew wider. "Ah, Potter… I thought you'd never ask." Draco paused. "Under normal circumstance, just curious, how is it you lot normally go about this sort of… mission?"

Harry scratched the back of his head, shrugging, "I suppose Hermione usually comes up with a brilliantly thought out plan, and er— well, bad things usually end up happening and we sort of— well… improvise?"

Draco's smirk promptly fell from his face, "Comforting."

He reached into his robes and pulled out a small vial, holding it out to Harry, who regarded the thick green liquid inside with disgust.

"What's this?"

Draco had to suppress his need to roll his eyes as he thought it was entirely obvious what the liquid inside the vial was, certainly to anyone who had taken Advanced Potions.

"Polyjuice Potion."

"I'm meant to drink this? Who is it you intend me to be?"

"Not you, Granger." Draco explained and then took the vial back from Potter's grasp. "Unless you fancy turning into a women, which if I think about it, that wouldn't surprise me in the slightest—"

"A woman?" Harry repeated, pausing and then his eyes grew wide. "You've put Bellatrix's hair in it, haven't you?"

"And they say you have no common sense—"

"Whose says that?"

Draco pursed his lips and shrugged, "Ah, right. That'd be me, actually. I said that."

"Clever."

"We can't all be reckless buffoons with a brilliant witch to think for us."

"Well Hermione must have agreed to this?"

"Yes." Draco glanced away, mumbling a bit quieter. "…her idea actually."

Harry smirked. "Whose relying on a brilliant witch now?"

When Draco refused to answer Harry simply sighed, and carried on. "So what? We're just to walk right in? Isn't there— I don't know— charms to uncover enchantments or things of that sort?"

"Or things or that sort?" Draco mocked with a heavy sigh, as if simply explaining himself was draining him of his intelligence. He thought it may very well be and that perhaps this was why Hermione was so clever, she had to work twice as hard, well three times as hard, if you're including Weaslebee, which thankfully, Draco was not. "Yes, of course there are, but not until we've actually entered the vaults. From there it will be far less complicated to keep the one Goblin distracted as apposed to an entire atrium full. Once we get to the vault all that's needed is my blood on the key to get it open."

"Right, so Hermione's cover is Bellatrix— what have you got planned for me?"

"Granger's told me you've gotten something to keep you hidden. I thought you would know what she was referring to."

"Right— of course." Harry nodded, offering no further explanation.

"One thing I haven't worked out though…" Draco added. "How is it you'll know what you're looking for? Granger tells me you lot haven't a clue what objects hold the Dark Lord's soul, but you've managed to find them before— I've seen my Aunt's vault— it's a chaotic nightmare of gold and rubies and cursed objects. Summoning charms don't work in their and we won't have much time before the other Goblins are alerted if something goes off course."

Draco sensed Harry's hesitance to answer and simply nodded.

"Right, well… it's only our lives on the line. If all turns to shit— at the very least, I can claim you Imperiused me—" Draco drawled sarcastically, knowing it would infuriate the wizard further.

"It's complicated."

"Because that response was worth giving. Yes, I feel _much_ better now."

"You'll just have to trust me."

Draco scoffed, but upon glancing at Harry and realizing he was serious. His shoulders fell slightly, eventually nodding to reveal his bitter consent.

"Yes, well, I usually prefer more valid information to go on, but it would seem we haven't got much of choice."

There was a long pause of silence that stretched between them then.

Draco, though he was determined not to think of all the things that could go terribly wrong, could think of little else; not to mention his growing anticipation he felt with every passing second that the Dark Lord did not summon him.

He couldn't even begin to process his conversation he had up Blaise's return concerning the happenings of Kilchurn Castle— nor could he stomach considering what Mink had revealed to him about his mother, if it were true or if the elf had simply misunderstood her request…

All of these thoughts could normally be tucked away, precisely and neatly within his hedged gardens, but as he attempted to sort through it all now, attempting to repress the heavier thoughts, he was reminded of how fragile his mind had become in the short few days following the Dark Lord's interrogation.

"Malfoy—"

Draco snapped his head up, realizing then that he had been staring out the window for some time.

"Hm?"

"I said we should probably go over all of this with Hermione. In case she thinks of something else were not thinking of."

"Right—" Draco cleared his throat, moving towards the study's door and opening it.

"Malfoy—" Harry called after him, causing him to pause in the door way. "One more question…"

"By all means…"

"I'm still trying to wrap my mind around this entire situation— you helping us and everything, but…"

"The point, Potter—"

"You're not… Well, what I mean to say is— Salazar's fuck, sorry, this is bizarre—" Harry sighed, shoving his glasses further up his nose in a way Draco always found incredibly unnecessary. "Do you have, er— feelings— for Hermione— like, _romantically _?"

Draco couldn't help but smirk at the amount of discomfort Harry appeared to be in as he avoided looking directly at Draco. He crossed his arms over his chest as he casually leaned against the doorway, drawing out the moment, shamelessly basking in the joy it brought him.

"Uncomfortable, Potter?" He leaned forward, lifting a self-satisfied brow, "—wondering what it is me and Granger got up to all this time… _alone_ in my bedroom…"

Draco felt a spark of victory burst within his chest when Harry let out a loud groan, rolling his eyes, mumbling, "Gross—forget I asked Malfoy."

He shoved past him to exit the study. Draco didn't even feel the need to retaliate for Potter shoving his shoulder with his on the way out— the disturbed expression on Potter's face was triumph enough.

The moment Hermione entered the kitchens she was forced to quickly side step out of the way of someone shuffling across the room.

"Sorry!"

A boy with shoulder length brown hair hurried past her, gripping his arm that was wrapped in gauze across his chest, blood seeping through the white cloth. He hurried to join the others gathered around the large wooden dinning room table— some aided to their own injuries, while most were being tended to by Daphne and Blaise. Hermione took in the scene before her and moved quickly to Pansy's side, sensing she was the one who was delegating the worst of the injuries.

"Yury, take these—" Pansy said to the younger boy who had just apologized to Hermione moments ago, handing him a few vials tied together, "—and give this one to your sister after Daphne's done stitching up her stomach."

"Parkinson— your mutts are getting blood all over my mahogany table."

Hermione turned to see Theo coming to stand beside her. His arms were crossed over his chest, frowning at the group of young werewolves.

"Well, if you would stop pouting and give us a hand there would be less blood on your precious table." Pansy countered.

"I have a hand to give," Theo moved behind Hermione, placing both of his hands on her shoulders and shoving her gently forward, "—see… two dainty hands at your service."

Hermione glared at him over her shoulder before turning to face Pansy.

"What can I do to help?"

"Daphne could use some help stitching up some of the deeper gashes. She's brilliant with spellwork usually, but I think all of this has her a little shaken, though she'd never admit it." Pansy shook the thought and sighed, turning to Hermione, "I'm certain I don't even need to ask this— but how good are you at healing—"

"Healing spells are one of my specialties." Hermione answered quickly, forcing a smile. She was still upset over her conversation with Ron, and suddenly very grateful for a distraction.

"Shocking…" Pansy mumbled sarcastically, turning on her heel to point at a boy sitting on the floor, holding a bloodied cloth firmly to the side of his face. His long legs were stretched out before him and his head resting back against the wall with his eyes closed. "That's Aleksei. He goes to Durmstrang and the oldest of the recruits. Not sure what's wrong with him. He doesn't talk much, but after your finished with him—" she turned to a young girl who was crying softly a few feet away, "—do something about the crying? It's annoying."

"Oh, right… um—" Hermione blinked after the witch, watching as she abruptly turned towards the large table to help Daphne.

"Got you something." Theo said, nudging her elbow with his.

Hermione looked down to see a neatly threaded wand laying in his palm, instantly recognizing the intricate design clearly made of vine wood. Her eyes widened slightly as Theo extended it to her.

"Dragon heartstring, right?"

"Yes—" Hermione nodded eagerly, unable to hide the smile on her face, "—but— how did you—"

"That very old, _very _ _wrinkly_ hag who drooled all over my _very expensive lounge chaise _ in the foyer _may have _ mentioned what your wand was made of and I _may have _ raided my secret stash and found one similar to yours."

"Theo—" Hermione felt her heart expand within her ribs, feeling light for the first time since Ron left. She ran her fingers over the threaded vine wood. It felt very similar to her former wand, though a bit darker in color. Within her veins her magic vibrated and hummed in forceful pulses. She smiled brightly up at him, the sting of tears threatening her eyelids. "This is… it's perfect. I-I don't know what to say— Theo, Thank you."

Theo shrugged Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck, "I was going to wait to give it to you, make a big reveal of it, but you looked like you could use some good news after Weasley— well, you know."

"Wait—" Hermione stepped away and tilted her head, narrowing her eyes slightly, "—you have an entire stash of wands?"

Theo blinked down at her, frowning, "Doesn't every wizard?"

"No."

"Hmm," He hummed, "—not very smart considering the disarming spell is used in almost every duel, ever. Predictability will always be a weakness and I prefer not to have to rely on physical combat— wouldn't want to mess up this flawless face, now would I?"

Hermione wasn't sure if he wanted her to answer, but before she could decide he continued explaining himself.

"Just imagine it—" He moved away a step, moving into a firm stance, his hands placed out in front of his chest defensively. "—you're dueling me in this very kitchen. You disarm me. Now you think you've won. You're guard is down— but what you don't see coming is that I've hidden two wands under the countertop right behind me."

With one reach backwards, Theo revealed his hand again and sure enough there was a thin black wand laying his palm. He lifted his brow at Hermione, a smirk growing over his features, "Impressed?"

"Concerned, actually." Hermione admitted. "Makes me wonder what's happened to you in the past to be so paranoid."

"Ahh," Theo nodded, tucking the wand in his back pocket. "My morbid childhood is a story to be saved for another day, and only after we're both thoroughly intoxicated— preferably and more accurately just you, so the morbid details don't hinder your precious innocence."

"I see— so never?"

Theo tilted his head towards hers, lowering his voice slightly as he glanced over her head to the happenings of the very full kitchen. "Would it be the strangest thing that's happened to you today?"

As her eyes scanned over the very bloodied strangers scattered in the kitchen and watching three Slytherins tend to them, not to mention knowing Harry and Draco were having a chat somewhere within the Manor, she grimaced.

"Valid point."

Theo smiled in triumph, "So, it would be entirely plausible that in the near future you and I may find ourselves at the bottom of a very empty bottle of Ogden's spilling all our deepest, darkest secrets?"

Hermione glanced down at the wand in her hand, the reminder that perhaps Theo wasn't as awful as he was determined to make himself appear and then glanced up at him, a smile twitching on her lips.

"To be determined."

"I can work with that."

He lifted his palm towards her and she rolled her eyes, but eventually shook it.

"You're incorrigible."

"Yes— but you already knew that." He smiled at her and leaned back on the counter, twisting the wand in his hand casually for a moment before speaking again. "So, lay it on me Granger."

"What?"

"What's our next reckless adventure? …and yes I know all about the Dark Lord's mysterious inner-bits scattered across this great wide world. Clearly you and Draco have something planned or he wouldn't be in my study with Potter right now having a chat."

Hermione considered him for a moment, glancing across the room to ensure no one was listening and reached for Theo's hand, pulling him into the walk-in closet behind them.

"Cozy, dim-lit? Look, Granger— as much as I'm loving our new found friendship, I should go ahead and warn you— you're not really my type and Draco's my best friend so—"

"How many times a day do you get asked to stop talking?"

"Well, to be honest you're the first to ever ask— normally it's more of a demand, really, unless it's Draco, then hit's normally a silencing charm—"

Hermione waved her new wand, a smirk spreading across her features. Theo frowned. He lifted the wand in his hand, reversing the spell, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Clever."

"Do you want to hear my plan or not?"

"You know I do." Theo grinned.

"We're going to break into Gringott's."

"As one does…"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, knowing that was not at all a normal response, but also very aware that conversations with this particular wizard were rarely normal so perhaps she should stop being surprised by his absurdities.

"Well— that's it really. We think that's where You-Know-Who is hiding one of his Horcrux's— in Bellatrix's vault."

"I see…" Theo nodded, and began mumbling to himself, "—a reasonable conclusion considering how obsessed she is with him. Tragic, really, as he naturally prefers murder to affection— or maybe he gets off on her devoted willingness to murder in his name, hard to be certain of such things when there's no clear evidence— interesting to consider though—"

"Nott— focus."

Theo sighed as he placed his hands behind his back, pacing two steps away, then slowly turning to face her. "And I suppose you've formed some semblance of plan as to remain undetected?"

"Well, it's not a completely infallible, but yes. I'm going to use Polyjuice to appear as Bellatrix and Harry's going to use his invisibility cloak. Once were in, Draco will be able to open the vault."

"Mhm, I see…"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Would you stop saying 'I see'? I know it's not the best plan, but we haven't got time to come up with a better one."

"Well I hardly expected you to have anything planned similar to the Great Train Robbery of '63. No offense, but you're no Ronnie Biggs and Potter is certainly no Charlie Wilson… No— your plan is far more similar to the Crown Jewels of England heist, poorly planned, as Thomas Blood was a complete dim-witted twit, but surprisingly brilliantly executed— but really that had more to do with the political climate of England following Charles II return to the throne, as religious impostures weren't as common and therefore a perfect cover for Blood—"

"Nott— what are you rambling about?" Hermione managed to ask when he eventually took a breath. She wanted to be impressed he knew so much about the topic, but found it only slightly more unnerving that he did.

Theo seemed unfazed by her interruption, "I suppose it could work— so long as you've thought of the imposture alert procedures the Goblins will take once you undoubtably fail to portray Aunty Bella-bitch, as I'm certain your acting abilities are probably just as good as Potter's, which if you were unaware, are terrible, truly, truly horrid, really— must be a bold and bravery, Gryffindor thing, a weakness really— impossible to blend in when you're intent on risking your life with such moronic consistency—"

"Imposture alert procedures?"

"Yes, Granger. The—" Theo paused as he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion in his head; a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well seeing as you haven't an idea what I'm talking about— looks like you'll need me after all. Never fear. I'll handle that bit."

"I think I'm going to need you to elaborate."

"The first thing the Goblins will do is demand to see your wand as a way to confirm your identity."

"How is it you know this?"

Theo waved his hand lazily, glancing around the dark closet then, picking at one of the cobwebs attached to the burning lantern between them.

"So you're saying we need Bellatrix's wand." Hermione couldn't hide her disappointment.

"As I said, never fear. I'll handle it." Theo smiled brightly at her, moving to open the closet door. He turned to her, and lifted his hand when she began to protest, "—it's best you don't know, truly."

"You're joking, right? How on earth are you going to—"

"Ah, ah— what is dangerous to those who are invisible to those who mean them harm?"

It took Hermione a moment to rationalize what it was he intended to do, but found that Theodore Nott was still a puzzle she had yet to piece together. In fact, she was certain that a puzzle was an insignificant metaphor for him; perhaps he was more of an intricately woven quilt, each stitching made with it's own unique, bizarre yarn, existing purely for his amusement, as he would surely unravel any stitch if he believed her close to understanding it's purpose.

"Fine, but just—" She inhaled a deep breath, "— please be careful, Nott."

"Not to fear love. I'll be back in no time." He placed a quick kiss to her cheek and opened the door.

Hermione stepped past him, immediately meeting the amused stare of Daphne as she watched her and Theo come out of the closet. Hermione began to explain, but found she didn't need to when Daphne continued past them to return to healing the recruits.

"Should I—" Hermione's sentence was stopped abruptly when she turned to find Theo was no longer next to her. She quickly glanced around the room and tried to displace her rising panic. "Bollocks."

"If you're quite finished being useless, Granger…" Pansy called over to her and flipped her hand in the direction of the injuried recruits.

"Right, sorry—" Hermione mumbled and set to work.

It was a much needed distraction, tending to the new recruits. Hermione had lost herself in healing spells and whispered conversations, enjoying getting to know some of them, while the more injuried found a quiet spot to rest. Though, her heart grew heavy with each new person she spoke to, learning of their tragic stories and how they ended up in Greyback's pack.

Three of the new recruits— Aleksei, Yury, and Roza were from Durmstrang, in similar positions as Pansy, in that their families were tied to the Dark Lord. Two others were from Ilvermorny, a girl: Eliza, and a boy: Emmanuel— both sleeping when Hermione went to check on them where they slept on the window nook near the piano. The rest of the recruits, to Hermione's horror, were orphan squibs taken from several different Muggle orphanages: Dmitri, Loki, Cole, Orion, and Damen. They had no previous insight on the magical world before they were attacked and thrown into a war that was never theirs to fight.

It was sickening; the thought of Greyback stalking Muggle communities for outcasted magical beings, robbing them of their normalcy.

"The Dark Lord apparently believes that even those who lack the ability to wield magic should still be of use to him and his cause. Finding squibs was just the beginning of it." Blaise explained her her as they both tended to one of the unconscious recruits. Hermione watched his expression darken as he focused on each individual stitch he made with his wand hovering over the girl's leg. Hermione knew it wasn't the blood that was making him queazy.

"What do you mean the beginning?" Hermione whispered back.

Blaise's fingers stilled over the wound. She heard him swallow and when he brought his haunted gaze to hers she could sense that he had witnessed something horrible. He lowered his voice, making sure those around him weren't listening.

"He's been experimenting on magical creatures. Draco sent me to deliver some new potions the Dark Lord requested him to make and that place— Kilchurn Castle—" His voice broke as he dropped his gaze to shake his head. "—it was a fucking nightmare. Whatever's happening inside that castle isn't natural. The moment I landed on that island I felt like I had died, or like— I don't know my soul was being sucked from me... not like a dementor— this was… this was different, somehow, because the longer I stayed there I—" he brought his gaze to hers again making Hermione's breath catch, "—I think I wanted to die. It was a fucking nightmare."

"What do think he's planning to do with what he's experimenting?" Hermione couldn't help but ask, though she felt fear ripple across her bones the entire time he spoke. She remembered her first conversation with Draco when he had mentioned Voldemort recruiting him for experiments, suddenly she felt the need to vomit.

Blaise shook his head and set back to work. "I don't know… Draco doesn't think it will work, but that whatever's happening in there, he's working on creating something that could stop it." He finished closing the wound and stood to his feet. "Let's just hope Potter ends this before we have to find out."

With that he moved onto the next patient, leaving Hermione's stomach turning over and her throat closing, finding it very difficult to breathe as her imagination began considering the darkest possibilities to come if they weren't successful.

As she tended to those who had been taken from orphanages, they watched with mixed expressions of amazement and uncertainty as she and the others used their wands to tend to them. She tried her best to make them feel comfortable, though it was difficult to when they all seemed terrified, shaking with fear every time someone new entered the room. Eventually, they seemed to become more comfortable with her as she told them that she was born in the Muggle world, too, and she helped most of them fall asleep with calming draught and dreamless sleep.

Their injuries healed much faster than any other person, though they weren't as quick to heal as Pansy or Daphne, as they hadn't had their first full transformations, yet. Hermione felt her heart throb with every passing second, wishing she could erase all of it for them; the pain, the memory of ever being attacked, but knew ultimately it was safer for them here. At least they would understand what's happening to them and Daphne and Pansy were surprisingly very tender with helping them understand what the first transformation would be like for them.

It was strangest at first, for Hermione, watching the two witches smile and share glances with one another, but it quickly became clear to her how much they two cared for each other. Hermione would find Pansy watching Daphne for a short period of time, a longing gaze in her otherwise sharp stare, which would have been very unsettling, if it hadn't been for Pansy's conversation with her the day before.

And Hermione found herself, once again, considering what it must be like on the other side of the war as she had with Draco in the first few days of him keeping her hidden in his room— she wondered how many more were forced into following Voldemort, believing they had no way out...

Her first interaction with one of the recruits was a short one. Aleksei hardly spoke, only nodding when she asked if he would like her to heal the nasty cut over his eye and mumbling a thank you when she finished, but the others were much more talkative.

The younger boy, Yury, who had almost knocked into earlier was very chatty. His accent was quite endearing, reminding her of what she imagined Viktor may have sounded like as a younger teenager. He was surprisingly positive, all things considered, and he was extremely attentive to his twin sister, Roza who would smile fondly whenever he spoke. They shared quick jokes as she helped rewrap his charmed healing gauze over his skin and it warmed something in Hermione, hearing their light banter. She momentarily forgot she was meant to break into a highly secure Ministry building in a few hours.

"Granger—" Hermione turned to see Pansy narrowing her eyes at her from a few feet away. She lifted her finger and pointed to something behind her, slowly stalking forward. "What is that?"

Hermione stood, turning to look behind her, but nothing was there. She frowned and started to turn to face Pansy, but was abruptly turned around as the taller witch firmly placed her hands on her shoulders, forcing her back to her. Hermione began to protest as she felt Pansy reach into her back pocket.

"You little thief— where did you get this?"

Hermione whipped around, confusion bubbling into anger within her chest until her eyes landed on what Pansy was holding between her fingers, one perfectly arched brow lifted in speculation.

"Oh— that— I can explain. I—"

"You... what?" Pansy blinked, staring at the vial, but more importantly the elegant ring near the top.

Hermione glanced around nervously, thankful that only Yury seemed to be paying them any attention. She quickly grabbed Pansy's wrist and guided her out of the room and into the back hallway for more privacy. She glanced around the corner to make sure they were alone.

"Oh, this better be good, Granger."

"I didn't steal it, alright? It was— it was given to me— as a… well, for safe-keeping, I think."

Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes as she lifted the ring once more. "The only person who could have given this to you is Narcissa Malfoy— and if by some completely impossible happenstance that were true, she would only gift it because she—"

Pansy's eyes widened as she took a step back. Hermione felt her chest tightening, unsure what to make of her sudden change of demeanor.

"No." Pansy said firmly, shaking her head. "Uh uh— not possible. That is absolutely— ha, no! Ridiculous— Just— Absolutely—NO!"

"Pansy—"

"Please tell me Narcissa Malfoy did not _ gift _this to you ."

Normally, Hermione would be offended by the clear inflection of Pansy's voice referring to herself in such a manner of disbelief, but found she was far more curious as to why the ring held any significance to Pansy.

"Well, yes, she did, but—"

"Oh, you have got to be bloody joking..." She let out a laugh as she leaned back on the wall, shutting her eyes and taking in a deep breath. When she opened her eyes Hermione took a quick step back, uncertain for the reason behind the witches growing intensity. "Do you have any idea what this ring signifies?"

"Um— well, not really— She only—"

"It signifies her accepting you as a compatible match for her son— UNITATIS PRAESIDIUM — protection in unity— it's a pureblood tradition to get permission from the mother of the heir when bonding for marriage! If she gave you this, she's telling you that she approves of you and you have permission to marry her son—" Pansy paused and then began laughing again. "That bitch— she told my mother she lost it! Not that it's any of my concern, but she truly is a tricky little—"

"Look— I have no intentions of marrying anyone. She only asked that I hold onto it."

"Well," Pansy leaned off the wall, "— and here I was, thinking things couldn't possibly get any more absurd. What did Draco say?"

Hermione dropped her gaze and folded her arms across her chest.

Pansy's eyes widened once more, "You haven't told him, have you? Oh, this is brilliant—"

"You can't tell him." Hermione said quickly, her eyes pleading and Pansy wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Why not? It hardly matters unless he's intending to propose. Honestly, it doesn't even make sense— her giving it to you now. Why not wait? It's not like—"

"Pansy…"

The taller witch narrowed her eyes as Hermione bit her lip nervously.

"What is it Granger?"

"I think—" she sighed, inhaling a deep breath. "I think she was tying up loose ends… like someone would if they were preparing to—"

"Preparing to die?" Pansy whispered, her shoulders dropping slightly.

Hermione nodded.

"She asked me to hold onto the ring. Keep it safe for her. And that vial—" Hermione explained, nodding to the vial in Pansy's fingertips, "—it holds a memory. I haven't got a clue to what it reveals or whose memory it is, but she asked me not to view it and to not tell Draco until after the war. She also told me..."

"What? She also told you what, Granger?" Pansy leaned forward, forcing Herminoe to raise her gaze back to hers.

"She thinks Draco's ability to Occlude is failing because— well, because of me. Something about his magic and his heart's desire interfering with his mind— I don't really know, and I haven't had the time to sort it out completely, but… I don't think she intended for me to tell him. It was almost like she wanted me to know in case… well, in case—"

There was something lodged in Hermione's throat as she tried to form the words— to admit what she hadn't wanted to believe, but found herself thinking about ever sense Narcissa Malfoy left her. She inhaled a deep breath, thankful that Pansy was patiently waiting for her to collect herself.

"I think it's because of the curse… the same one that's in me and I'm scared that—" Hermione held back a sob, breathing in deep once more "—well, I've considered the possibility that she's become aware that there's no permanent cure— that she must know the curse will kill her soon— and how do I tell Draco that? How do I—" Hermione wasn't able to finish her next sentence, feeling a small tear flow down her cheek.

She felt Pansy's arm wrap awkwardly around her shoulders and had she not been so thoroughly distraught she may have laughed knowing how uncomfortable the witch was with attempting to comfort her.

"There you two are— What's— um—"

Hermione hurried to wipe the tear away, glancing away from where Draco had just appeared behind Pansy.

"What's going on?" He frowned at Pansy who dropped her arm from around Hermione as he stepped closer. "Hey, Hermione— are you—"

"Everything's peachy, Draco." Pansy said brightly. "Granger and I were just having a little girl to girl chat— nothing to concern yourself with."

As Draco turned away from Pansy, she tilted her head, brows lifting as she stared wide eyes at Hermione to chime in.

Hermione wasn't sure if she was grateful that Pansy wanted to help her keep her secret or disappointed that she hadn't forced Hermione to release the burden weighing in her chest. It wasn't true, what they say, that sharing a burden with someone makes any lighter— if anything it only doubled the weight, forcing them both to suffer the consequences of the importance it held.

Hermione forced a small smile on her face as she nodded, "She's right. I just got, um— emotional. Some of the recruits— well, they're just children, really, and when I learned most of them were from muggle orphanages, it just— well, Pansy thought I needed a minute to clear my head."

Draco's eyes scanned over her features for a second longer, he lifted his finger to her cheek, wiping away the lingering stain and nodded slowly. She could tell he didn't fully believe her.

"I'm fine. Really, Draco."

"You're sure?"

She nodded quickly. "Mhm. Positive."

He glanced one more time at Pansy who appeared completely unfazed, her hands casually tucked behind her.

"So I'm guessing your coming to collect Granger means you lot are ready to leave?"

"Um, yeah." Draco nodded and then turned to Hermione, his features still drawn in concern as he added, "Potter's waiting for us, but if you're not ready—"

"Nonsense. I'm perfectly fine. " Hermione said, lifting her arms to his shoulders and turning him away from her and shoving him forward. "Let's go."

As Hermione passed Pansy she mouthed, 'thank you', and followed after him. She felt Pansy slip the vial and ring in her back pocket and reached back to tuck it deeper, the weight of it suddenly far heavier than before.

* * *

Despite the darker thoughts swirling inside her head, Hermione couldn't help but smile as she entered the large common area to see Harry standing before the fireplace, staring into the flames. She wondered if she would ever not feel a relief flood her veins every time she laid eyes on her best friend. She hurried over to him as Draco and Blaise followed a few steps behind, discussing the details of what Draco needed him to do while they were away.

Harry must have sensed her presence, turning a moment later, a small smile creeping over his haunted features. She was instantly reminded of Ron in that moment, her heart expanding, feeling a hollow void where it was once full— much like it felt everyday sense they were separated. She shoved the feeling aside, happily stepping into Harry's outstretched arms and wrapping her own around his torso.

Her heart expanded, every inch of her grief was pushed aside as the warmth of belonging consumed her reminding her that by Harry's side would always be where she belonged, she knew this truth more than any other. He may believe he needed her, but she knew she needed him just as badly. Their bond hadn't been set in place since birth as most families were, but chosen over time, again and again, solidifying it's foundation, expanding it's certainty, revealing to them both that their sense of family was stronger than what either of them had ever known before.

He brought his hand to the back of her head, pulling her closer. She pulled back after a moment, sensing the tension in his shoulders as he held her a little tighter.

She couldn't hide the smile tugging on her lips as she ran her fingers over the light stumble covering his jaw.

"This is new."

His mouth twitched, but it didn't reach his eyes. His hair was equally as unruly, reminding her of the last time she had given him a hair cut. Her memory betrayed her, flashing scenes of him and Ron fighting, Ron storming out of their tent, and the days following spent in misery for them both. This felt similar somehow, seeing Harry so defeated, but also different— worse.

"What is it?" She searched his face for any sign of discomfort, but only found the slight emptiness that seemed to remain on his features now, the hallow void in her chest deepening at the sight.

"Nothing." He assured her, forcing his smile wider as she dropped her hands to wrap around his forearms. "It's just— still getting used to seeing you again, I suppose." He let out a small laugh, "It's pathetic how much I missed you."

"Certainly only half as pathetic as how much I missed you." She admitted, genuinely smiling before stepping back, letting her hands drop to he sides and glancing over her shoulder. Draco and Blaise seemed to be lost in conversation a few feet away and she turned to see Harry watching the flames again, appearing to be lost in thought.

"Harry…" She started slowly, lowering her voice. "…about Ron— We should probably talk about what happened between you two after—"

"Soon." Harry turned to her sharply, forcing her to recognize the slight panic in his eyes. "Not yet."

"Oh… um, alright."

"It's just—" He turned away, folding his arms over his chest. "You're here now and if I focus on what it was like when you weren't— I just—"

"Harry. It's alright. It can wait." She interrupted, placing her hand in his and squeezing it once. "But… you know you can tell me, right? I want you to know that I won't blame you or think any less of you, or whatever it is you're worried about— You're my best friend, Harry." She nudged her elbow against his, smiling, "We're in this together, remember? No matter what, I'll always be there for you. Always."

She watched Harry inhale a shaky breath, nodding as he dropped his gaze to the floor.

"I know." He croaked out. "I know that."

"Good." She said firmly. "Now, enough of that. We've got a Horcrux to steal out of a highly guarded vault."

"You're sure about this, 'Mione?"

She stepped back, feeling her eyes being pulled across the room where Draco stood, finding he was already staring back at her as he nodded at something Blaise was saying. Her heart leapt as she released a breath.

"Honestly, Harry— I'm certain of very little these days."

"Suppose we've managed to survive worse."

"Yes, I suppose we have." She smiled, then frowned as she noticed Harry's expression shift suddenly, color rising to his cheeks and his brows rising; often the look on his face whenever he was nervous, or embarrassed perhaps? She turned over her shoulder to see Theo entering the room, entering from the kitchens.

"Look— not to state the obvious or anything, but Parkinson seemed obviously brought home the runts of the liter— highly lacking in the intimidation department." Theo announced, coming to stand beside Hermione with Pansy and Daphne trailing after him.

"How 'bout you stick around for a full moon, Nott—" Pansy responded primly, causing Theo to jump slightly, unaware she was so close behind him, "—see how intimidating they seem then."

He swiftly placed Hermione in between him and Pansy before responding, "Take it easy, mama wolf— I was only voicing what Granger was clearly thinking."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond when Daphne chimed in instead, "What she meant to say—is that we are aware of the qualities they lack, but rest assured we're seeing to it." Draco and Blaise moved to join them as she continued, "We'll be training them while you're all off— wait, where exactly did you say you were going?"

"We're off on another quest, my dear Greengrass," Theo answered, "—another intrepid quest."

"What do you mean we?" Harry asked, glancing up at Theo. "You're coming?"

Theo lifted his hand to his chest, feigning offense as he lifted his other arm around Hermione's shoulders, "Of course I am Potter. Tell him Granger."

Hermione felt all eyes on her then, her cheeks warming under their heated stares.

She bit her lip, "Oh well, he is rather resourceful and it couldn't hurt having an additional cover—" she glanced over at Harry, "—and I may have already told him he could?"

"See, Potter." Theo interrupted, smirking over at Harry. "She _wants_ me to come."

Hermione rolled her eyes, shoving his arm from around her shoulders. "I suppose that means you've gotten it then?"

"Gotten what?" Draco asked, eyeing Theo as he reached in to his pocket. The moment Theo revealed what she was referring to Draco took two quick strides over to him, yanking the familiar wand from his grasp.

"Well that was a bit unnecessary, Draco. I would have been more than happy to let you hold it if you had simply asked—"

"Where— How did you—?" He stammered out, blinking rapidly at him then glancing at Hermione. "And you— you knew he— but this is—"

Theo kept his eyes on Draco as he tilted his head to whisper loudly in Hermione's ear, "I think he's broken."

"What am I missing here?" Harry asked.

"This is Bellatrix's wand." Draco explained, glaring at Theo, who simply lifted his hands innocently.

"How could you possibly have stolen that insane witches wand and still be breathing?" Daphne asked, eyeing the wand closely.

"Well?" Pansy added impatiently.

Theo scoffed, "I'm stunned— appalled, to be quite honest, that you all appear to think me incapable of such a feat— least you all forget that being invisible is my most distinguishing characteristic— well, that and my ability to satisfy through oral pursuits—"

"Nott— if you don't get to the point—"

Theo smirked to himself, eyeing a particularly blushing wizard with raven colored hair and round glasses out of the corner of his eyes.

"I was referring to my story-telling you filthy minded witch—" Theo rolled his eyes at Pansy and took the wand back from Draco and handing it to Hermione, who took it with much reluctance. "Yes. Fine... As you all are aware, Blaise and I were able to free the Wand-maker and the glorious Luna Lovegood because the wards had been finicky, miraculously, and very conveniently, really— some may say too conveniently—

"Theodore Volcom Nott!" Pansy warned through gritted teeth, knowing he would likely continue with his banter of nonsense.

"I love it when you call me by my full name— Ow—" He rubbed his arm where Hermione had just smacked him and rolled his eyes. "I'm getting to it, you little minx. Always so violent… Anyway, the wards were down— prisoners escaped— Lord Shit-for-brains in turn decides to punish the last to seal the wards— enter Aunty Bella-Bitch— torture, torture, begging for mercy, blah, blah, blah— somewhere amongst the chaos, in slips your handsome, gallant white knight—" Theo winked at Harry, "—that would be me, in case you were wondering— and next thing you know I've got her wand and she'll wake up believing Dick-Lord— Lord of Dicks?" Theo pursed his lips as if considering which sounded better and settled on one," —believing Dick-Lord took it— destroyed it— possibly using it for whatever kinky pleasure Tyrant Overlord's are into these days—"

"That's— that's enough." Draco said, shutting his eyes firmly, attempting to shake the very unnecessary mental image Theo just forced him to conjure.

"That's just gross, Nott—" Daphne added as Blaise shook his head mumbling, "So, so, so disturbing—" as Pansy let out a sound similar to that of one puking.

Hermione glanced over at Harry to find him staring at Nott a slow smile creeping over his face until he was smiling, genuinely smiling and appearing to be trying not to laugh. As his eyes glanced over to hers, they both began laughing and unable to stop. She wasn't even sure why— Theo was ridiculous and the timing hardly called for laughter, but seeing Harry smile forced a lightness to bubble within her chest. Perhaps they were both losing it?

"I'm sorry—" Hermione shook her head, holding her stomach. "I don't know why— it's not funny at all— it's— Harry! Stop laughing! I'm— I can't— if you're—"

Theo smirked at his fellow Slytherins proudly. "It seems I have finally stumbled upon a worthy audience."

"I'm sorry—" Harry managed to say between heavy breaths, trying to stop laughing. "I don't know— I don't know why I—"

"Harry!" Hermione breathed out curling her fingers deeper into her stomach, her abs beginning to ache. "Harry— stop!"

"Oh this is just becoming unbearable. Fucking Gryffindor's—" Pansy sighed, turning to leave, calling over her shoulder to them, "I've got a pack to look after— Good luck you idiots, try not to die."

Daphne smiled over at Hermione and glanced up to see Draco watching with a confused expression, his entire body rigid with awkwardness. The entire scene was far too unsettling for her liking. She turned to follow after Pansy, mumbling beneath her breath, "—so bizarre."

Hermione was finally able to control herself long enough and shook her head again. "Honestly, I don't— okay. I'm fine, now." She turned to Harry who was equally as winded from laughing. "You were saying, Nott?"

"Dont—" Draco said quickly, racking his fingers through his hair as he released a sigh. "Don't make him repeat himself."

"Seems like you've got everything in place for breaking the law." Blaise concluded, clasping his hand on Draco's shoulder as he handed him a small bag. He met Hermione's furrowed brow, explaining, "Potions for the road. In case you need them."

"Thank you." Hermione said, as Blaise nodded and followed after Pansy and Daphne. The reminder that she could very well need the potions so soon seemed to sober the room of it's lighter atmosphere.

"Maybe you shouldn't come along, Hermione." Harry said suddenly. "After what you've been through with the curse—"

"Absolutely not." Hermione said firmly, "Why is it you two think I need protecting?"

Harry and Draco shared a sheepish glance, surprised that they seemed to finally have found some semblance of common ground.

"We haven't time for your ridiculous worrying. We've got a war to win." Hermione lifted the portkey from Theo's pocket and nodded once as she held it out in front of their small group. "Now, are you three wizards ready or shall we let you worry a bit longer to fully rid it from your system?"

"I haven't got a wand." Harry said, his hand hovering over hers.

"Oh, that's not a problem." Hermione said swiftly as her eyes met Theo's, nodding to Harry. "Theo."

Theo moved across the room to retrieve the wand with Harry in his wake. Draco moved towards Hermione with a hint of amusement on his face.

"When did you manage to win Theo over?"

Hermione shrugged, a smug smile on her face as she looked up at him.

"I've found that most wizards secretly enjoy being bossed around by witches."

He lifted his hands to her hips, pulling her closer with a firm tug so that she was pressed against him, promptly wiping the smug grin off her face. He brought his lips closer to hers, their nose an inch apart. She felt her breath catch, knowing that if he wasn't holding her she was certain her knees would betray her.

"I think you're underestimating your talents, Granger."

"Am I?"

Draco smirked, tilting his lips to press a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering them there as he whispered. "I'm certain no other witch could entice the amount of pleasure, but— that's just my opinion."

Hermione swallowed nervously as his hands lifted to cover the sides of her face, his lips found hers, gently pressing himself closer until she could focus on little else.

"Eh hem—" Theo cleared his throat.

Hermione jumped as Theo and Harry re-entered the room. Her face, she was sure, a blazing red color as she avoiding Harry's eyes.

"You were saying something about not wasting time?"

"Ready Potter?" Draco asked. Hermione didn't have to look up to know he was smirking at her best friend.

"Let's just get this over with." Harry mumbled.

They each reached for the portkey, swirling away from the safety of the Manor and off on their next intrepid quest.


	18. Hide & Seek (Pt I)

_Epilogue : Ramin Djawadi_

_The Enemy : Andrew Belle_

Wings : Birdy

_Lost My Mind : Alice Kristiansen_

_Alive : Sia_

_Compass : Zella Day_

_About You Now : Meadowlark_

* * *

The curved alley stretched before them as they stalked quietly through the night, disillusionment charms in place for any potential late-night strangers in passing. It was common place for Death Eaters to be seen in this dodgy part of town during this particular hour, though perhaps not for Draco, who almost always had his parents or aunt to accompany him. Now, he only had a cloaked Hermione Granger at his side and Harry and Theo under an invisibility cloak following behind them. His chin remained high, his ability to convey a calm demeanor had never failed him before so he saw no sense in not putting on a show now. He was a Malfoy after all, and in this current political climate there was really no safer name to carry, well at least for today.

He didn't need to glance over at Hermione to know she was nervous. Beneath her cloak, her shoulders were set high with tension. He could practically imagine her lip tucked tightly behind her tooth as her eyes scanned for any potential danger, small fingers firmly wrapped around her wand. Hoping to settle her nerves he extended his fingers tips to graze her empty ones, her fingers reacted to his touch instantly, curling around his own. He couldn't place the feeling that spread through his chest. It felt too surreal— her accepting him so easily.

"Almost there." He whispered into the night, quickening their pace slightly as he swore he could feel the presence of someone watching them, though he always felt that way while in this part of town.

Draco came to a steady halt, pushing open a wooden door to his left as he saw the faded, crooked sign dangling from its hinge: _Trinkley's Trinket's and Thames Noble Nimble's_. The abandoned shop door opened with a soft creak. He held the door open for Hermione to shove past him, pausing another moment for Harry and Theo to follow. He scanned the seemingly empty alley way once more, the haunting feeling of someone's eyes on him creeping up his spine forcing him to shove the door shut. Once he was inside he made quick to shut the store window with a wave of his wand, then placing locking enchantments on the bolts of the window and door. With one more wave of his wand he placed one last ward over the stretch of the door and alley just beyond it to alert him for any unwelcome visitors.

"What is this place?" Hermione's low whisper filtered over him as she trudged deeper into the shop.

As he turned around he saw her investigating one of the shop's cluttered shelves, her fingers lifting to touch one of the dusty trinket's on a tall shelf, her brow furrowed with curiosity, and then instantly yanking her fingers back when whatever she had been looking at turned into a small cloud of black fog.

"One of my Great Uncles old properties. My father told me he used to intercept information back when Grindlewald was rising in power." Draco explained, nodding towards the back wall. "There used to be a direct underground passage from here to the Ministry— the trinket's and nibble's were just a cover."

"You mean like a secret passage?" Harry asked, folding the cloak over his shoulder advancing towards Draco, "—directly to the Ministry Building? How is that even possible?"

"Wouldn't be much of a secret if he told you, now would it Potter?" Theo said calmly as he leaned down to inspect a glass tube containing miniature heads floating in green goo, his nose scrunched in horror.

"That—" Draco nodded at Theo in agreement, then added, "—also, it's been sealed shut for years now. So, I imagine the Ministry is very aware of it's former existence."

"Yes, riveting— truly—" Theo said as he took several quick steps away from something moving in a cage, gently nudging Harry in-between him and the very unsettling looking creature watching him. "—as much as I'm sure we'd love a history lesson concerning all the heinous and dark secrets of the Malfoy family, I'd rather if we did it else where, as to no longer remain in this ghastly place."

"Nervous, Nott?" Hermione asked, brow lifted in amusement as she moved to join them.

Theo scoffed and then began to open his mouth to respond when Draco moved quickly to clasp his hand firmly over Theo's mouth.

"What is it?" She asked quickly, recognizing Draco's sudden tense posture. He lifted his finger to his lips and glanced towards the door.

"Someone's coming."

They all heard it then, a boisterous voice accompanied by another muffled one from the alley. Draco took two quick strides to past her and lifted his wand, revealing a hidden door in the back wall. He reached for her arm, nodding for Theo and Harry to follow after her as he shoved her inside.

Hermione felt her back hit the side of the small closet, her heart pounding in her chest as Harry shoved himself between her and Theo. It only took another beat for Hermione to realize Draco had no intention in joining them as there was hardly enough space for the three of them.

"I'll be fine. Just don't make a sound." He assured her, as if noticing her panicked expression. "I can handle my father."

Her eyes widened in shock as she tried to process the panic dancing inside her veins, but then Draco was shutting the door, though he was still visible to all three of them. She wondered if he had charmed it, or if this was another tool of his Great Uncles he used to spy in previous years.

The small amount of light from the lanterns within the shop filtered through the cracks of the closet enough for Hermione to make out one side of Theo's body on the opposite end of the small space. He appeared calm enough, keeping his gaze firmly on Draco's back. Next to her, Harry was tense, though she couldn't make out his face. She focused on the sound of their three shallow breaths, forcing herself to remain as calm as Draco appeared standing near the entrance as three hooded figures entered, the men pausing briefly upon see the younger Malfoy there to greet them.

"Draco?"

Hermione recognized the silky voice of Lucius Malfoy before he tilted his hood from covering his long blond hair and pale features. He looked ghastly ill, as if all of the color had been drained from his withered body. She heard Theo swallow a shaky breath as the other two hooded figures moved to de the same. Hermione recognized Dolohov and if the hammering of her heart beat could thump any faster she was sure it would crack her ribcage. Theo seemed in a similar state of distress as his gaze was heavily residing on the other man, who, as she looked closer, she noticed favored Theo; though his dark brown hair longer in length and frame a bit stockier compared to Theo's structured features, the set of his playful grin and deep green eyes made it obvious to her... it was undeniable that they were related.

"Father." Draco countered calmly with a slight bow. "Dolohov, Nott Sr."

As Draco met his father's calculated stare, he felt a humming of uncertainty trickle through him. He took in the weary gazes of Nott Sr. and Dolohov, both glaring at Lucius as if they were not comfortable with Draco's presence.

"You didn't mention your boy was going to be involved, Lucius." Dolohov's deep voice vibrated around the eerily lit room.

Draco watched the corner of his fathers eye's twitch before his usual cadence returned as he answered over his shoulder, his gaze never leaving Draco's.

"I am as surprised as you are Dolohov, but I assure you, Draco is nothing if not discreet. I'm sure his being here is just a precaution. You'll forgive me for misremembering when deciding this location as our meeting place." Lucius smirked then, turning from Draco to smile at his companions. "You see, my son now has full ownership of inheritance and thus all of Malfoy properties, making it his responsibility to be aware of any unusual activity. When we entered the alley he must have been alerted and saw to investigate why the wards were activated." Lucius turned from them, his smile falling and his eyes darting to the side of the room, revealing a message only for Draco. "Am I right to assume as much, Draco?"

Draco forced his normal smirk over his features, nodding, "Wouldn't want any Order sympathizers slipping through the cracks, would we Dolohov? As I recall you let one best you not too long ago— Potter's sidekick, was it not? I must say, I regret I wasn't there to see it; you being bested by—"

Draco held his ground as Dolohov growled something unintelligible back and lunged forward. Lucius lifted his cane and landed it firmly over Dolohov's chest, stopping him mid stride.

"Now, now, Antonin—" Nott Sr. said through a throaty laugh,"—you know the boy's only toying with you. Let's let father and son come to an understanding so we can return to business." He nodded at Lucius as he gripped Dolohov's shoulder, forcing him deeper into the shop. "You've got ten minutes, Lucius."

* * *

"That little infuriating twat— Why the Dark Lord has some fucked up soft spot for that miserable little coward I'll never understand— "

Hermione watched Dolohov grumble as he and Nott Sr. slowly stalked deeper into the shop, towards their hiding spot. She glanced over at Theo, his gaze was still firmly set on his father, his expression unreadable. The sound of Nott Sr. laughing at Dolohov only a few feet away forced her attention back to the two men. She was grateful they stopped moving closer, but she grew anxious with every passing moment, hoping her soft breaths were silent enough.

"Come now, you know Draco is not entirely useless. He's proven as much to the Dark Lord at least." Nott Sr. answered back, lifting something from one of the shelves and placing it back down as Dolohov leaned against the counter, his arms tucked firmly across his chest.

"Certainly not as useless as your boy." Dolohov grinned wickedly as Nott Sr. turned around to let out another gruff laugh.

Hermione's gaze flicked to Theo's, but his gaze was now firmly cast down, his jaw clenched. She was certain she had never seen him so tense. His usual air of playful indifference gone, replaced with a darkening cloud of something she couldn't quite place. It wasn't anger or even sadness. The lack of his utter 'Theoness' almost felt numbing.

"What was it you said— oh, right, the Dark Lord would be better off recruiting a squib than your son—"

"A squib, an infant troll…" Nott Sr. nodded, loftily waving his hand through the air, "—either would be preferable, I'd wager."

Dolohov let out another bark of laughter. "If he's that much of a disappointment, why not be rid of him like you did with the other one?"

It was then that Hermione saw the subtle movement in the dim shadow, where the firelight filtered into their hiding place she could just make out Theo's trembling hand at his side. If she hadn't been paying such close attention she would have missed it; Theo's fingers were suddenly put at ease as Harry's longer fingers slowly intertwined them together. Her brow furrowed, momentarily shocked to see the subtle gesture from her best friend, but as she searched for Harry's face for an explanation, she was met with nothing but the darkness, unable to see much of anything.

"Should be grateful you took care of that one when you did, or you might have two disastrous disappointments to make up for."

Nott Sr. didn't respond, instead he seemed mildly irritated that Dolohov mentioned his son at all. He shoved away from the counter he was leaning on to walk deeper into the shop.

"Was this a business meeting or wasn't it? I'm growing bored with this disgusting shop." Dolohov persisted, "Lucius better hope he can make his son keep his mouth shut or I'll kill him myself..."

Their ramblings faded as they moved further away and as Hermione glanced at Theo once more, her eyes focused on the quick movements of his chest rising and falling and then glanced down to where Harry's fingers were still wrapped in his. She could see the whites of Theo's knuckles as he seemed to be clinging onto Harry for support. She replayed Dolohov's words in her mind...

_Why not be rid of him like you did with the other one?_

It only took a moment for the realization click inside her mind.

_Theo never talks about it. He doesn't think anyone even knows he ever had a brother. Theo's mum was really sick after giving birth, it drained her of practically all of her magic... and a month later she took her own life. Theo's father was so furious that he took it out on the baby. He blamed it for taking his wife so he killed him and forced Theo to watch. He was only eleven then, I think..._

She focused on keeping her breathing shallow as she remembered her conversation with Pansy on a few days ago...

Hermione attempted to keep her tears at bay, suddenly overwhelmed with pity for the wizard across from her. As if he could sense her eyes on him he slowly lifted his gaze to hers. She could only make out one side of his face and she wasn't sure what she expected... tears, perhaps? Or possibly a flash of pain in the deep green color, so similar to Harry's, but not as bright, more of a deep emerald— but she found no trace of pain at all, instead she recognized the emptiness, the vacant look of feeling so helpless, so utterly devastated to the point of giving into the numbness instead of feeling at all...

It was the same look she saw in the mirror after she obliviated her parents.

After a few moments it felt like too much for her and she dropped her gaze from his, shutting her eyes tightly, knowing that feeling would never really go away.

* * *

The moment the two wizards were out of hearing distance, Lucius gripped Draco's elbow taking them further away and placing a muffling charm around them.

"Mind telling me what it is you're up to father?" Draco said calmly, pulling out of his grasp. He kept his eyes on the hidden closet near the back. Nott Sr. and Dolohov were only a few feet away.

"I could ask you the same."

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's obvious the Dark Lord knows nothing of this meeting. I have no intentions of making him aware, either, so let's skip to the part where you tell me what you think you could possibly get away with without him knowing."

Lucius lifted an amused brow, "I could say the same to you."

Draco stiffened slightly. "Father."

"Oh, but how could I forget…" Lucius drawled lazily, leaning over his cane with a disgusted expression clouding his features as he glanced through heavy lids at his son, "He is very fond of you these days. Perhaps you have freedoms that I am not privy to."

Draco didn't miss the implication that this was nothing to take comfort in, and of course Draco knew that. The Dark Lord liking you was almost as dangerous as the Dark Lord wanting you dead, worse probably.

"What are you planning father?"

Lucius kept his heavy gaze on his son's. Something about his hesitance caused Draco to consider him closely, and it was then that a spark lit inside Draco; a painful spark, one that only lit when he thought of one person.

"Mother—? Is she—?"

"She's alive." Lucius said quickly. "For now… and I intend to keep her that way. It's why I'm here. Dolohov and Nott Sr. have bargained to assist me— for a cost of course, but one I will surely pay for in due time."

Draco felt a weight lifted off of him, but it only lasted a moment as he watched his father reach into his robes. When he pulled his hand out once more, cautiously gripping the Goblin-made iron handle, Draco took a slow step backwards, blinking at the dagger in his hands.

"But— that's— how do you—"

"It's the twin dagger of Bellatrix's." Lucius lowered his voice, closing the distance to speak intently to his son.

"The twin?" Draco repeated. "I don't understand— Why do you need it? What does any of this have to do with mother?"

Before Lucius could respond Nott Sr. was moving towards them with an impatient expression on his face. Draco searched his father's weary gaze, desperate for answers that he feared he would not be allowed to ask.

"Lucius—" Nott Sr. said firmly. "Time's up. We can finish our business at my estate, but we're leaving this instant."

Draco took a step forward to stop his father, but paused upon seeing Dolohov and Nott Sr. glaring at him, challenging him to do something that would allow them to use their wands against him.

"Draco…" Nott Sr. nodded his head, a forced grin over his pale face. "It was a pleasure running into you. The Dark Lord would be glad to hear of your diligence... as we are of your ability to remain _silent_ about this harmless little meeting."

There was a dryness forming in Draco's throat, making him unable to respond; instead he simply nodded back. He turned to his father, finding his shoulders slumped and his expression tight, but Dolohov was already reaching for his father's arm to side apparate.

In the split moment before the three hooded figures were ripped away Draco met his father's stare, the foreign look of guilt clouded his father's grey eyes, forcing the breath from Draco's lungs to be knocked away. He struggled to catch his breath as his eyes remained on the spot his father was standing only moments before. Confusion overcame his scattered mind as thoughts of his mother surfaced. He blinked several times only vaguely aware that he didn't think he could move.

He shut his eyes, attempting to shift through his labyrinth.

The vines were still, almost as if they were locked in place. He reached for one, hoping it would respond to his urgency, but nothing shifted.

_Nothing._

"Draco."

His eyes shot open at hearing the muffled voice, returning him to the present. He moved quickly to the hidden room and lifted the charm to reveal the door and forced it open. His gaze flickered across Hermione's panicked expression and he was certain he was going mad, because his lips flickered into a smirk instantly; any thought of his father's guilt or his vines unwillingness to move, momentarily forgotten as his gaze settled on hers.

"Are you alright?" She asked quickly, reaching for him, her small hands gripping onto his forearms.

"Worried about me, were you Granger?" A warmth skated across his skin as she rolled her eyes and lightly raised her hand to hit him on the chest. He was quicker in his reaction, his fingers closing around her wrist and pulling her against him. He felt her tense as he lowered his lips to her ear. "I don't know why you still doubt me."

"You're impossible. We're meant to be robbing a bank in the middle of a war and you're flirting with me."

"I wasted entirely too much time not flirting with you." Draco whispered as he inched closer to place a soft kiss on her lips before adding, "— and I intend to make up for it."

He pulled back then to smile down at her, but as he did his gaze landed on the two wizards whispering a few feet behind her, instantly noticing his best friend's rigid posture. Theo's arms were folded firmly across his chest, avoiding a very unsettled looking Harry Potter.

"Theo, what did he mean—"

"I said drop it, Potter."

Draco overheard the tail end of their whispered conversation, glancing wearily between the two seemingly tense wizards as they noticed him approaching.

"What'd Lucius have to say?" Theo asked quickly, stepping away from Potter. Draco knew Theo well enough to know he wanted to avoid whatever conversation they had just been having, so he obliged, knowing Theo would tell him when he was good and ready.

"He's made some type of deal with Nott Sr. and Dolohov. Didn't say much more than that, but we shouldn't stay here much longer." Draco glanced over at Hermione. "Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

"Remember what to do if we run into anyone who tries to speak to you?"

She nodded confidently, "Sigh impatiently and tell them I have no desire to speak to them, and continue walking as you apologize and make excuses."

"Let's hear it then Granger." Theo said, striding over to her and then taking on a slightly impressive Irish accent, lifting his shoulders back and conjuring a large pipe and a tweed flat cap, placing the former in his mouth and the latter snugly over his head.

Draco rolled his eyes at his theatrics, but allowed him to continue for the sake of knowing he was attempting to avoid whatever had him so tense moments before. _Defensive mechanism #12, _Draco thought fondly_._

Theo popped the large pipe into his mouth and pulled it away, releasing a cloud of smoke. "Let's see what yer made of, Lassie."

Hermione sighed, "Is the Irish accent really necessary?"

"'Course it is." Theo scoffed. "It would be entirely useless exercise if you were the only one in character."

As Hermione tossed her black cloak aside to dig into her bag for the potion, Draco couldn't stop his eyes from lingering on the dress she transfigured beneath it. His eyes trailed down her exposed neck, roaming across the tanned skin that dipped beneath her collarbone. He swallowed, unable to bring his gaze from the way her black corset top hugged her figure, deliciously lifting the perky breasts he had only ever dreamed existed beneath her school uniform. He felt the heat of Potter's gaze on the side of his face and quickly adverted his gaze to the vial in her hands. She lifted it to her lips and he decided it was probably best to just look away from her entirely, knowing she would be much less appealing after the potion took effect.

* * *

"That is a disturbing sight." Theo announced after a few moments.

Hermione had been through this feeling before, and even though she knew the potion was brewed correctly she was still shaking with an anxious fear that the black curly hair covering her face may be cat hair and not the hair of the insane witch she intended on. The taste was as disgusting as ever, similar to what she imagined stale piss tasted like. Suppressing the need to gag, she glanced nervously at Theo and Harry and then Draco who was blinking at her, his nose scrunched.

"Well…" Hermione's soft voice coming from Bellatrix's body must have forced them speechless, because for a moment they all just stared in horror. "How do I look?"

"Hideous." Harry answered eventually.

"Forget the role-play—" Theo said, abandoning his Irish accent and abandoning his pipe and hat with a wave of his wand, "—let's work on your posture."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Theo as he circled her, his fingers resting beneath his chin.

"I'm not a prized cow, Nott."

Theo paused in front of her, his face scrunched in repulsion. "Who in Merlin's sweet sac would want a cow for a prize?"

"Nevermind." Hermione grumbled.

"Shoulders back. Chin up. She's a raging maniac, not a pouty school girl who failed her N.E.W.T.S." Theo demanded.

"I would never fail my—"

"Bellatrix doesn't whine, either, so enough of the screeching."

"This is ridiculous." Hermione mumbled, swatting at Theo's hands as he moved to fix her hair.

"I'm trying to help you witch!"

"Theo—" Draco sighed. "Granger's not an idiot. Besides, I'll do most of the talking. Let's just get on with it, yea?"

"Fine. Fine. Let's—" Theo nodded and then frowned as he glanced over at Hermione one last time.

"What is it now, Theodore?"

"Are you going to abuse me if I get too close?" Theo narrowed his eyes and Hermione shook her head, allowing him to take a step forward. He pulled something from his pocket and before she realized what he was doing he lifted a vial of red liquid to her lips. She pulled back.

"Is that blood?! Why on earth would you have a vial of blood in your pocket?"

"Of course it's blood." Theo said calmly, glancing over at Draco for back up.

"Actually he's got a point." Draco admitted, cringing slightly at the thought. "I've never seen my aunt without dried blood on her lips, or staining her teeth."

Hermione's eyes widened in disgust as Draco shrugged.

"That's not terrifying." Harry mumbled sarcastically, and then quickly mumbled an apology as Hermione shot him a look. "Right, not helping."

"If you're going to play the part, do it fully Granger. Commit! Even the smallest of details could mean life or death."

Hermione glared at Theo as he lifted the vial to her again. She took it from him and tipped its contents onto her fingers and lightly patted her lips, smudging away just enough to leave a bit lingering as she cast a drying spell. She forced her stomach to still as the need to vomit suddenly began to bubble deep within her stomach.

"Might want to hold off kissing her for a bit." Theo mumbled to Draco who shuddered.

"Shouldn't be too far of a stretch for you, since your lot is typically known for keeping relations within the family—" Harry said with a small smirk, even Hermione was biting back a grin and then instantly thought better of it as it forced her to taste the blood.

Draco took a step forward, but Hermione stopped him.

"Enough wasting time. Let's get this over with before I change my mind."

She turned on her heel and attempted to strut confidently towards the exit, with an annoyed Draco glaring at Harry following behind her.

Harry turned to face Theo, lifting the cloak over his shoulders, "Ready?"

Theo nodded, and took a step towards him. "Top or bottom?"

Harry swallowed, lifting his chin slightly. "Top."

Theo attempted to hide his smirk and turned around. He felt Harry's hands on his shoulders, then the warmth of his body pressing against his back. Theo felt a shiver of pleasure coarse through him as he leaned over, increasingly aware of how deliberate Harry was being as he shifted his chest and hips closer— but Theo much preferred to be the one to tease, rather than being teased, so with one swift movement he felt Harry's breath catch as he reached his hands behind them, placing his hands beneath Harry's thighs, gripping tightly as he lifted him up on his back. Theo pulled the cloak the rest of the way around them, forcing himself to focus on remaining hidden instead of Harry's firm grip around his neck and his light breaths tickling the hairs over his ear.

"All good back there?" Draco asked, turning to search for them in the seemingly empty room.

"All good back there?" Theo repeated in a whisper, turning his cheek ever so slightly and tightening his fingers around Harry's thighs where he was keeping him steady, even though Harry had kindly placed a lightweight charm on himself already. He felt Harry's lips twitch into a smirk, brushing against his cheek. He leaned into it and then his face was instantly jerked forward as Harry wrapped his hand around his jaw.

"Just fucking go, Nott."

"Sir, yes sir." Theo answered quietly, lightly biting at the closet finger still holding his jaw, momentarily lingering in the thrilling sensation that came from Harry telling him what to do. He flicked his tongue to graze the tip of his finger and as if realizing this wasn't the time or place Harry removed his finger a beat later.

Harry sighed into his hair, though Theo knew he was still smiling as he grumbled, "You're one twisted bastard. You know that?"

"All good here." Theo announced to Draco instead of answering him and shoved through the shop's exit and into the empty alley once more, only mildly distracted by Harry's thighs tightening around him with every step.

* * *

Theo was actually impressed by Hermione's performance... well, that was until she practically twisted her ankle after taking two steps into Gringotts. He and Harry both cringed at the sight of Draco's hand on her lower back to steady her and her turning to apologize with Bellatrix's rotten teeth smiling up at him. It was a very, very unsettling sight.

And as things often did for Harry Potter, and as Theo predicted things would... it got worse.

Her voice was all high pitched and nervous. Draco was calm and uncharacteristically fidgety, but quick with his responses.

As Theo had also predicted, they asked to confirm her identity. It was then that Theo realized the three guards forming something of a triangle from every exit, closing in on them. That was also when Theo knew simply showing the correct wand wouldn't be enough.

Without a seconds hesitation he moved past Draco, knowing he felt him clip his shoulder.

"Stall." Theo whispered and Draco nodded once.

"What are you—" Harry started to ask, but Theo swiftly silenced him as he shuffled quickly towards the stairs that led to the Goblin's podium. He lifted his wand, pushing it carefully out of the cloak.

"Imperio."

"Ah, yes, yes, of course Madame Lestrange. That won't be necessary after all. I can escort you myself. Right this way."

Theo watched Draco and Hermione share a quick glance, but moved quickly behind the wide grinning Goblin. He smirked to himself and glanced back to see the guards pausing in confusion and then shrugging to return to their post. It wasn't until they were out of sight of the other Goblins and standing before the vaults entrance, two massive metal doors, that Theo lifted Harry's silencing charm and handed him the cloak.

"Impressed?" Theo winked as Harry took the cloak from him, shrinking it down and stuffing it into his pocket. When he lifted his head to smirk at him, he took a step past him but then paused, bringing his shoulder to his, discreetly bringing his lips an inch from his ear as he whispered, "You wish."

Theo couldn't ignore the growing knot twisting near his lower abdomen as he bit back a laugh and turned to follow him towards the giant doors.

"Who are you?" The dubious looking Goblin regarded Theo and Harry wearily with his keys dangling in his grubby little hands.

"I'm your mother, Gunther. Now open the doors." Theo answered, watching as the Goblin nodded happily.

He glanced up to see Draco and Hermione blinking at him.

"Gunther?" Draco asked with a lifted brow as Harry asked just as amused, "His mother?"

Theo shrugged, glancing down at the rather petite Goblin. "Yea— looks like a Gunther. Gunther the Goblin. Ugly little shit, innit he?"

"Actually it's Herbert—"

"Nah, not anymore. It's Gunther." Theo patted the creature on the head and shoved past him to make his way towards the trolly cart.

"Right. Gunther..." The Goblin repeated with a frown.

"What did you do to him?" Hermione asked, following behind quickly as the large doors shut behind them.

"Imperius Curse." Harry explained and at her gasp he just shrugged. "Sort of brilliant really. Probably would have been found out otherwise."

"That's illegal—" Hermione started, but quickly sighed, "I don't know why I'm even bothering. Let's just get to the vault. Where to?"

Draco nodded behind her and they all turned to see the Goblin, Gunther?— Herbert?— waiting on a very sketchy looking trolly cart with just enough room for the four of them. As they edged closer to the trolley, Hermione gasped. Below the cart was an endless pit of moving trolley tracks, some of them shifting directions reminding her of the staircases at Hogwarts.

"Isn't there another way down?" Harry asked, eyeing the never-ending pit that seemed to grow darker and wider the deeper it went down.

"Scared Potter?" Draco asked as he moved to hop on the trolley cart next to Theo.

Harry and Hermione shared a nervous glance before joining them.

"Honestly?" Harry finally answered as the Goblin gripped a lever in the middle of the trolley cart and yanked it towards him. "Yea— a bit."

The cart lunged forward and whatever response Draco was going to say was lost as they dipped down, deeper into the twisting underground levels of vaults. Hermione gripped onto the railing and Harry's arm for support, shutting her eyes as the speed of the trolley and the scenery whipping by her began to give her motion sickness. They continued deeper and deeper and she felt as if the cart may never stop— that was until her body was lurched forward, grateful that Draco was quick to catch her before they both fell over the side of the cart. He steadied her against his chest, and she made the mistake of looking down. Her heart fell to her stomach as she realized they were stopped mid air.

"Why have we stopped?" Draco asked the Goblin.

"It would appear that something isn't working."

"No shit, Gunther." Theo said, glancing nervously around the cart to see if something was stuck in the tracks.

"Uh oh—" The Goblin said as the trolley cart began to vibrate.

They all followed the Goblin's gaze upward and a moment later a flood of water was being released over their heads, drenching them completely. One second Hermione was firmly planted on her feet with Draco's arms wrapped around her and the next she was falling through the air, the dreadful feeling like nothing she had ever experienced before. She gripped her wand tightly in her hand and forced her mind to settle long enough to react.

"Arresto Momentum!" Hermione heard Draco shout the same thing at the exact same moment, and a beat later she felt her body being suspended for a brief second and then thudding to the surface beneath her. She quickly shuffled to her feet, shrugging off the drenched heavy black cloak weighing her down.

Her eyes landed on Harry first, he was helping Theo stand and she was instantly relieved as she saw Draco lifting himself to his feet a few steps away from her. She rushed to his side, smiling despite her racing heartbeat, and helped steady him.

"Quick thinking, Granger."

"You too." She let out a breathy laugh.

"The Thieves Downfall— washes away all enchantments..." Draco said as his eyes roamed down her body. Hermione's entire body warmed as he lingered his sights on the exposed skin of her neck and chest before lifting to her bottom lip firmly tucked behind her tooth.

"What the devil are all you doing down here?" The Goblin was no longer under Theo's curse and was shuffling to his feet, moving away from them and began shouting, "Thieves! Thieves!"

"Fancy another unforgivable, do you Gunther? Imperio." Theo said casually, lifting his wand and Hermione flinched as a bright jet of light landed firmly on the enraged Goblin, who instantly relaxed.

"Hermione you're—"

"Obviously, Potter." Draco said with a roll of his eyes. "Enchantments don't work down here."

A loud animalistic roar vibrated and echoed around them causing them all to go deathly still.

"Was that a dragon?" Hermione asked, slightly awed and terrified all at once.

"Vaults this way." Draco said, nodding towards the winding path in front of them. "Come on."

* * *

Draco grew increasingly anxious the longer it took for them to find the correct vault. After several missed turns they finally emerged in front of the guarded vault. No matter how often he was near the size of a beast this large he never quite got used to it. He motioned for the others to stay put and began moving stealthily along the arched stone entry towards the wooden crate a few feet away. The large dragon huffed out a dream induced sigh, causing Draco to falter off balance for a moment, the smell revolting as it was strong winded. Finally he made it to the crate and reached inside for the small rattling instrument and motioned for the others to join him.

"So disappointing... To procure a Ukrainian Humpback to protect her belongings, but keeping the tool to weaken it on display for anyone to use..." Theo mumbled as he reached into the crate and grabbed the other instrument. Noticing Harry's narrowing stare of confusion Theo sighed as he explained, "I expect a higher level of creativity when it comes to my deranged villains, Potter— preferably unhinged to the point of developing a proclivity for ingenuity... If it's this easy, what's the point of having the dragon at all?"

"What are those for?" Hermione asked, suspiciously eyeing the objects in both of their hands as well as glancing nervously at the sleeping beast with a pained expression.

"It's been trained to expect pain when it hears the noise." Draco explained and began shaking the object, and as expected the beast began to stir frantically backing away from them so they could enter the opposite side.

"That's barbaric!" He heard Hermione shout from behind him.

"What were you expecting, Granger?" Theo answered, also shaking his own instrument vigorously. "A swarm of gentle fairies, perhaps?"

Draco continued shaking the instrument until they were all safely within the protected entrance outside of the vaults entry. The dragon blew out a heap of fire as he stopped shaking the instrument, but the heat of it died the moment it reached the invisible barrier before him. Ignoring the racing of his heartbeat he quickly moved through the narrow space to join the Goblin near the entrance, and stopped abruptly as the door that appeared before him was no longer the simple brass door he had remembered from his previous visit. Panic began to overcloud his confusion as his eyes scanned frantically over the door in disbelief.

"Fuck. Fuck— no." He breathed out and reached out to touch the door, just to be sure, _just to fucking sure_, and he could feel the truth settling over him, weighing him down and he wasn't sure when it happened but he fell to his knees, his short breaths no longer able to be heard as a buzzing hummed between his empty mind.

"Draco— what's wrong?"

"Draco— what the fuck's going on?"

"Malfoy?!"

Their muffled voices eventually entered his consciousness and he turned to see Hermione kneeling beside him, waiting for an explanation.

"It's different— I'm sorry— I thought—" He couldn't finish the sentence. He dropped his head back to look up at the door, the intricate edges sharp and no longer smooth. The lock he knew how to open completely gone.

"Don't tell me you can't get in!" Harry asked from behind him. Hermione shot him a look and Draco didn't even have it in him to respond.

"Draco. Talk to me. What's different?" She asked calmly.

He turned to her and threw his hands up, gesturing at the door.

"The fucking door has been changed! I can't— I don't know how to unlock this. Bellatrix could have changed it to anything— she could have—"

Draco felt the lump in his throat sink into his stomach as a thought struck him abruptly, the old vine whipping forward within his mind. The familiar feeling suddenly unfamiliar as he was certain his labyrinth had completely locked him out. He welcomed the sensation, gripping onto the vine tightly, using every ounce of his magic until he felt his breathing began to falter.

_Cissy! You checked it didn't you?_

_Of course. It's safe within Gringott's I checked it myself._

Holding firmly onto that vine, he shot to his feet and quickly began inspecting the doors again and Hermione moved to his side. He glanced over at her, an odd grin forming on his face, one he was sure that made him look partially insane. He pointed at Harry and then began searching the intricate notches along the new doors.

Harry and Hermione shared a confused glance as Draco continued to frantically search the door. He paused then, turning to lean his back against it and shut his eyes tighter, bringing his hands to either side of his head. The vine was still there, but he couldn't see past his mother's response to Bellatrix, like the vine ended there with the answer he needed on the missing root lost somewhere in the corners of his labyrinth.

"Draco, mate." Theo said then, "Not to sound, you know, concerned or anything, because I'm hardly one to determine what behaviors are considered normal— but, ah, bud, you're acting sort of _not,_ at the moment."

"My mother." He explained, snapping his head up to look at each of them and then landed on Hermione, searching her face, hoping she could help him slow his racing thoughts long enough to find the missing piece he needed. "Weasley's memory—"

Hermione's gaze darted between Harry and Draco for a moment and then realization seemed to spread over her face as her eyes widened and she gripped Draco's arms. She began nodding at him.

"Your mother. She was here."

Draco nodded, a small laugh escaping him.

"You think she changed the locks?"

Hermione furrowed her brow in concentration as she took a step back to examine the door once more.

"Can someone tell me—"

"Just let it play out." Theo murmured to Harry, leaning against the stone archway casually as he watched Draco and Hermione touch the doors rigged surface like prisoners who hadn't seen daylight in years hoping to claw their way up. Harry sighed and moved to join him, leaning on the wall just in front of him, crossing his arms over her chest, huffing impatiently. Theo leaned forward, resting his chin on Harry's shoulder, his fingers idly tracing the curve of Harry's spine through his shirt. "This is nice. We should do this more often."

Harry scoffed, tensing with every light stroke of Theo's feather-light touches, but remained perfectly still.

"You don't agree?" Theo teased, still watching as Draco paused to turn to say something to Granger.

"Breaking into a mad-womans vault guarded by a fire breathing dragon to steal a piece of the man's soul who wants to murder me doesn't really scream romance, no." Harry deadpanned, and then tilted his head towards the Goblins who was standing near their feet, its beady eyes blinking up at them in a daze. "Not to mention the creepy Goblin."

"Gunther's harmless... besides, he just enjoys the tension— the anticipation rising with every moment that passes— Can't blame him, really. Danger around every corner can be extremely—"

"Don't say arousing." Harry pleaded with a groan, making Theo chuckle.

"Fine. I won't." He lifted his chin and leaned back to return to his previous position, his front just a hairs-breath from Harry's back. "You saying it was better anyway."

(_meanwhile..._)

"Why would she change the locks?" Hermione asked, causing Draco to pause. A moment later he felt her hands on either side of his face, forcing his eyes open. "Draco, what is it?"

"I can't access it. She knew I'd come here— the rest of the memory, it's there— but I can't—"

Hermione studied his frantic expression, his eyes darting in every direction and his mouth turned into a frustrated scowl.

"It's— fuck!" He moved away from her and shut his eyes, bringing the heel of his hands to press firmly into his eyes, forcing himself to concentrate.

An onslaught of colors began to blur behind his eyes, none of them forming an image remotely recognizable as they normally did. He reached for the limp vines. He could feel pressure concaving around the surfaces of his mind. The shock of his chest burning forced his eyes open. He focused on Hermione's face and then settled on her wand outstretched before her, pointed at him.

"I think I know what to do." She said calmly, though her wrist was slightly shaking.

He swallowed, uncertainty filling him as she stepped closer.

"Do you trust me?"

He searched her determined expression, searching for a reason not to and without a moment to reconsider, he nodded.

With the image of Narcissa Malfoy planted firmly in her mind she inhaled a deep breath.

"Legilimens."

* * *

_**Left to right —**_

Suddenly, Hermione was no longer standing in the damp underground vaults within Gringotts, but standing along a path tucked between two tall hedges. The sun is bright overhead, slightly disoriented she stumbles forward as a blur of something jogs by her. The whisper of a voice echoing within her mind, Draco's voice. Her eyes follow the blur as it comes into focus and she continued to move through the twists and turns of the garden maze. Her guide clearly able to move through the confusing turns with little effort, as if every turn of green hedges did not look the exact same.

She stopped abruptly upon see the memory play out before her. The blur that passed her settled into the form of a slightly younger looking Draco. He moved quickly, a wide grin spread over his features as he joined his mother on a stone bench, startling her. He stretched on his back, laying his head in his mother's lap, extending a black book over his face that she took with a melodic laugh filtering through the air. The brightness to the memory version of Narcissa Malfoy struck Hermione the most. Her usual tight demeanor that she had come to associate with the stoic woman was missing, instead there was a youthfulness to her, a surge of happiness swelled through Hermione and she suddenly realized she was experiencing Draco's emotions from the memory and it was intoxicating and terrifying—

_Does this mean you've finished with my present then?_

_Just open it mother._

Hermione's heart fluttered in her chest at the sound of his usual impatient drawl echoing around her.

_Draco— this is... darling, these are beautiful..._

Hermione moved forward, hoping to see the drawings he created up close as Narcissa flipped through the journal. Hermione just began to make out the edge of a sketch when Draco sat up, blocking her view, and pressed a quick kiss to his mother's cheek.

_Happy Birthday Mother._

As Hermione felt the memory slipping into another, she saw a flash of green vines curling around the memory, yanking the perfect image of Draco and his mother away to be replaced by another scene entirely. Hermione wanted to look away. She wanted to pull out of his mind right then— find another way into the vault— she desperately wanted to— because the next memory felt heavy with guilt and an all consuming fear, her skin felt like she was absorbing every painful emotion that Draco felt as he swayed in the tight grip of two masked Death Eaters. His eyes red-rimmed from tears that hadn't fell yet, his entire body shaking with helplessness—

Hermione moved forward as the sound of his choked breaths ripped through her chest, tearing at the seams until there was nothing left but her struggling pulse in her battered heart. She didn't want to turn around. She didn't want to see what had caused Draco this much pain. She watched as he tried to drop his head, to look away from whatever was attributing to his misery, but each time one of the men yanked his head back to watch. Over, and over, cries of agony filled the room, with each new scream Hermione felt the pieces of Draco's emotions consume her.

Forcing her body to turn she found she no longer had the strength to stand; both she and the memory version of Draco fell to their knees, his arms were still trapped behind his back by the masked men, but Hermione's shaking hands were covering her mouth as a horror-stricken cry begged to be released, though nothing came.

_If you wish to keep your mother from enduring any more pain, Draco, then you will vow to me that where your father has failed... You will not. _

The sound of Voldemort's demanding hiss was the last thing she heard before the vines returned at began pulling her away from the horrible sight of Narcissa Malfoy writhing on the floor in front of her son, begging him to make it stop.

_**Upwards Loop —**_

There was less than a blink of a moment for her to prepare herself for the next vine that lashed out towards her. The emotions of each memory swirled around her, raging, longing, demanding to be felt in full force. She wondered how Draco managed to breath with how suffocated she felt from only experiencing this for moments.

The dreadful feeling of shame and guilt fell away and was replaced immediately by a warmth that pulsed through her like a wave of adrenaline. The stark contrast of emotions giving her whiplash, unable to focus the previous feeling as the next one swallowed her whole.

Two flying blurs whirled past her, darting through the darkening sky as something bounced between them. The sound of a faint, distant laughs rumbled all around her. The two blurs lowered towards the ground, coming into focus, her eyes focusing on the image of Theo and Draco, hardly older then twelve years old, with their brooms tucked beneath their arms. Theo's slightly cracked near one end, causing the wooden handle to swing lazily as he walked.

_My father's going to murder me._

_Don't be so dramatic, Nott. Just get a new one. __Race you to dinner?_

_Last one there has to sneak into your father's office and swipe his last bottle of Ogden's._

_You're on, Nott. _

The scenery shifted around her as the two boys took off at a sprint, vines pulling her forward until she was standing in a dark corridor, an anxiousness creeping across her skin. She saw the younger Draco peaking through a cracked door as the sound of a loud crashing on the other side caused him to jump backwards. A movement later, Nott Sr. appeared, yanking the door open. Behind him, Theo lay on the floor struggling to get up. Nott Sr. glared down at Draco, roughly demanding he go home. Draco paused, his gaze flickering from the door to Nott Sr.'s blood stained hand, Theo's broken broom in his other.

Hermione didn't feel the vines turning around her, too consumed with the unsettling feeling bubbling within her chest, as a new scene appeared before her. Her heart thumped frantically in her chest as she watched Draco sneak through Theo's bedroom window. As he creeped forward, she winced as her eyes landed on Theo's sleeping form, a large gash running along the side of his face and a bruise beneath his left eye, blood staining his sheets. Draco moved to sit on the bed, lifting his wand and she watched at the bright red blood stain slowly faded, and the skin cut open along his face began to stitch back together. It was obvious he had very little experience with healing spells, the stitching was sloppy, but it would heal all the same. Hermione watched as Draco reached into his pocket and stood from the bed. He enlarged a shrunken broom, brand new by the looks of it, and he leaned it against the side of Theo's bed.

_You needed a better broom anyway. _

It took everything in Hermione not to let the tears demanding to escape fall down her cheeks as she watched Draco pause by the window, turning around one last time to look at Theo's sleeping form.

_One day we'll make him to pay for every scar he gives you, brother. I promise you that_.

As move vines began to shift before her she realized that searching through Draco's mind was different than any. There seemed to be no control over the memories replaying for her, only random collections of the memories with the heaviest impact on his life— the memories that forced him to feel— the memories she imagined he forced himself to suppress in hopes for a moment of peace from his grief and misery.

_**Right to left —**_

As if the heaviness in her heart wasn't enough, another round of his emotions began to engulf her and she gasped as the next memory came into focus...

She recognized her too bushy hair and her small frame as she bounced eagerly through the empty bookshop, waving too excitedly at the bookkeeper who grinned back. An embarrassed blush rose to her cheeks as she took in her obvious muggle attire, clearly out of place in such an establishment, though at the time all that mattered was that she get all the books she needed to prepare for the first day of school. She frowned, this was her first visit to Diagon Alley with her parents. She hardly remembered escaping into the bookshop alone, so how could Draco—

Her thoughts were suddenly stopped short as she saw the blur of an 11-year-old Draco scurrying past her, abandoning a book on the steps in his haste to move to the next row of books. She moved to follow him, but then realized he was hiding. She followed his gaze to the stairs to see her younger self slowly scanning the books along the wall as she ascended the staircase. Hermione wanted to laugh as he glared at her younger self picking up his abandoned book, but then he kept watching her— settling into his hiding spot, the corner of his mouth twitching whenever her younger self laughed at something in the book.

She couldn't bring her thoughts to catch up with the array of memories she had just seen, nor could she fathom this being one being real.

As the younger memory Draco moved from his hiding spot, appearing as if he was going to approach her, the bell of the bookshop rang out and she was torn from the light, curious feeling fluttering inside her and thrown into another memory.

Her chest tightened as her own blur of curls came into focus once more, though this time laying in a pool of her own blood. She already knew this memory, she had lived it and she had no desire to watch it play out again. Instead she focused on what Draco was feeling... the emotions he felt as she was being tortured were similar to the feelings he felt when he watched his mother being tortured, though no where near as intense. His Occlumency abilities clearly far more capable to shield him as she bled out before him.

The next several moments appeared in flashes, like brief glimpses into the happenings after Draco decided to save her...

She watched as he lifted her body and took her to his room. His composure never faltering, as if he cared very little if she lived or died. His guarded emotions forcing her to feel his straining effort to bury his emotions until he was completely numb. The feeling terrified her, she had never felt so hallow.

Another flash and she saw him standing stiffly near the door. She remembered this moment, too. She remembered feeling fear, but now a hollowness remained and she hated it. She hated knowing he felt nothing as her world was falling apart. Just as she thought that her own voice echoed around her and the hollowness began to shift—

_How often, I wonder, are you sent to revive your families torture victims Malfoy?_

Then she was watching herself stand awkwardly in her revealing nightgown after their first real conversation in his room. His eyes were roaming down her body and as she watched the memory with Draco's inner turmoil of emotions pulsing through a flame of desire burned within her. Each time she felt a rush of something that felt good it was numbed just as quickly.

To taste the brief feelings of want to have them torn away seconds later was torture to endure.

Another flash and she watched him tend to her as she slept in his bed only days after passing out from the curse. He worked quickly, but with a gentleness that she would have never imagined he possessed.

An agonizing fury of emotions swirled inside her as he paused and his finger tips moved from the bandage on her forearm...

Confusion and desire were building inside him... He was unable to suppress it the longer he lingered... despite the feeling of someone crushing his chest beneath the heel of their boot, pressing harder with each breath...

Hermione moved to get a better look at his face and was shocked to see him appear completely unfazed by the painful feelings raging within him...

His fingers moved from where they hovered above her jaw and slowly grazed her cheek to push a piece of her hair away from her face. He kept his fingers there, just barely touching her cheek, studying her for only a moment before the need to feel numb himself took over and he tore away from the bed, leaving the room without a glance backwards.

**Down —**

Hermione took only one breath before she was thrown into another memory.

_You've let something weaken you._

She saw Snape repeatedly point his wand at Draco until he was a heap on the floor. Somehow the control on this memory felt weaker than the others, as if they were steadily falling apart the closer she got to the present.

Another flash and the image of Voldemort standing above a kneeling Draco forced the breath from her lungs.

_Tell me, Draco, have I given you reason to become... uninspired? _

_No, my lord._

_I thought not. _

She felt it then, as a jet of light filtered from Voldemort's wand and crept over Draco's skin, sinking into his veins, she felt all of it; the strengthening of his Occlumency walls, the fear of not being able to keep her safe, his darkest desire to just let it all end, to let Voldemort end him for good so he no longer had to struggle with the battle inside him any longer—

**Flick—**

* * *

The moment Hermione felt herself being shoved out of his mind her vision returned to the present. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest, as her eyes settled on the grey pool of ice looking back at her. Draco's brow was pulled tight. He looked wounded, vulnerable—

Now that the suffocated feeling she felt the entire time she searched through his mind from his constant battle with his emotions was gone she realized just how painful it was to exist inside his head.

She swallowed a shaky breath and took a slow step forward, not sure if she would be able to take it if he pushed her away. She lifted her hand to the side of his face and instantly relaxed the moment he shut his eyes and leaned into her touch.

"Draco..."

His eyes opened and he reached for her hand, removing it from his face and began tracing the pattern as he spoke. "Left to right— upwards loop— right to left—"

"Down— flick— I know, I heard it too." Hermione nodded, and allowed him to step past her towards the door.

The memories revealed what they needed, but certainly not the way either of them had expected. Her mind felt empty and full all at once. She wasn't sure what to make of how he was reacting to her exploring through his mind. He seemed... calm?

She glanced over as Harry and Theo came to join them. Harry was watching her closely and she forced a reassuring smile over her features. Draco searched the door again and now with the code given to him by his mother he easily found the correct notches in the door he needed to place his blood on to release the lock on the vault's doors.

Hermione wanted to linger in the light feeling that washed over her the moment the vault's doors opened and revealed an endless amount of gold and rubies and treasures she would never dream of seeing in real life, but her heart and mind remained heavy with everything she had just witnessed. She felt Draco's fingers reach for hers as she followed them into the vault, pulling her aside as Harry and Theo moved further into the vault. He pinched her chin between his forefinger and his thumb, regarding her closely.

"You're upset."

Hermione wasn't sure why she laughed. Maybe because it was ridiculous for him to worry about her after everything he had been through?

"I had no idea..." She forced the lump in her throat down and tried to clear her throat, "Is it always that difficult for you?"

The corner of his mouth twitched, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Almost always."

"Almost?" She asked hopeful he was able to feel even a moment of relief. "When you sleep?"

"No," his smirk grew an inch as he moved his hand from her chin and wrapped it around the back of her neck, bringing his lips to hers, "—only when I'm kissing you."

Hermione had no choice but to allow herself a moment of getting lost in the warmth of his lips against hers and the spark igniting in the pit of her stomach— not that she needed a choice. She couldn't imagine denying him her kiss under any circumstance— even while in the pits of a Ministry building where they could very well be caught at any moment. Her body arched to meet his as the hands around her neck pulled her closer and she was suddenly reminded of the overwhelming feeling of lust she felt while shifting through Draco's memories. She buried her fingers in his hair, desperate to give him a moment of relief and it was over too soon.

Surprised to find that he was the one to finally pull away she pouted as her eyes opened into his. He laughed, his warm breaths spreading over her skin— and just making things worse for her really—

"I thought it'd be difficult for me to let you see those part of me." There was a rawness to his voice, a subtle hint of pain mixed with relief, what she imaged stumbling upon a diamond before realizing its a diamond would feel like.

"Wasn't it?"

"I can't explain it, but—" He shook his head, dropping it for a moment before lifting it again, "It felt— I don't know? It felt right to let you in. I—" He let out a laugh as he brought his hand to the back of his neck, "—fuck, I sound ridiculous—"

"Only a little." She teased, her heart feeling full as he smiled down at her.

They stood there just smiling at one another for several seconds before Hermione bit her lip and nodded behind her. "We should probably..."

Draco blinked out of whatever daze he was in and cleared his throat, "Um, right— we should— um, look around—"

Hermione turned to begin searching, but paused forcing Draco to steady them both to keep from knocking into her.

"I'm glad you did," She blurted out, a blush rising to her cheeks as she shrugged, "—let me see those parts of you— for what it's worth... I'm glad you let me in."

She would never admit it if anyone ever asked about how they escaped Gringott's on their horcrux hunt years from now, _if they escaped_, but she kissed him again— No, she wouldn't tell them that this kiss felt like it was the beginning of something more, something deeper, something terrifying to find when their lives seemed so fragile...

As she pulled away, their breaths coming to a slower pace, her eyes fluttered open to find his already open, a smirk stretching over his now wet lips that she found herself thinking about more and more with each passing day. His lips parted and for a split second she panicked, hoping whatever he was about to say wouldn't ruin the perfect memory she was crafting in her mind for her to remember when this was all over. Instead, the corner of his lips twitched and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her so close against him as he brushed his lips against her forehead, keeping them there as his whispered breath trickled over her skin.

"You could admit to me right now that you have every intention to completely break me and I wouldn't stop you. I'd fucking let you." Her chest tightened. She felt his lips tug into a full smile as he let out a breathy laugh, "I think you may have already..."

No... she would save this moment just for them.

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**A/N:** yes, yes, I know... they are on an important *time sensitive* mission, but fuck it all, they deserve a happy moment after all the angst... also, I'm aware this is probably not the best place to end the chapter (like they are literally in the belly of the beast and their impending/potential capture is looming) but hey, inspiration strikes when it strikes and when it doesn't i post what i got or it will be another two weeks until I can force myself to sit down and write enough nonsense for things to start making sense :)

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Enjoy and Review lovelies!


	19. Hide & Seek (Pt II)

Chapter Playlist:

_Lose Your Soul : Dead Man's Bones_

**_*Die Alone : Finneas*_**

_Fuel to Fire : Agnes Obel_

_Divenire : Ludovico Einaudi_

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Harry moved slowly through the vault, careful to not touch any of the overflowing towers of gold and jewels, the absurd amount clearly far more than one person could ever dream of spending in a lifetime It seemed to stretch far deeper than he thought possible, the only vaults he had ever been in weren't even half this size.

The longer time seemed to stretch without a hint of a result for their efforts, the usual feeling of doubt crept in... the feeling that haunted him for as long as he could remember and seemed to intensify until it was all that he could feel when he believed he lost Hermione—

The feeling that told him he wouldn't succeed, and that when he failed more people would die...

People would die and it would be his failures that caused so much suffering—

Just as the feeling started to feel heavy enough to suffocate him he felt the humming of dark magic gloss his fingertips. Stopping abruptly in his path, he felt Theo bump into the back of him.

"Oof— the fuck?"

"It's here."

"Perfect. Where?"

"I don't know." Harry grimaced, turning to face him as he tried to place where the humming of dark magic was coming from.

"Brilliant. So I was correct to assume there was absolutely no reason for you to stop so abruptly?" Theo mumbled as he walked past him to continue deeper into the vault... now a few paces away he glanced back at Harry, "Any hint as to what I should be on the look out for?"

"Something small, something valuable most likely…" Harry paused and started after Theo, then moving quickly past him as the flickering of something within one of the tall masses of riches caught his eye. "Possibly something to do with either Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff—"

Harry sighed as he finally found the source of the flickering, only to find a necklace full of rubies glittering from his wand light. The object held no traces of dark magic.

"Finding anything in here is going to be impossible—" He turned around in a circle, realizing that he was talking to himself. "Theo?"

He hurried through the vault, stepping over large chests full of random trinkets, stumbling slightly, just missing a tower of leaning gold bricks. He stopped abruptly as he finally caught up to Theo. He was standing with his back straight, arms folded over his chest, a wicked smirk forming on his lips; the usual flare of anarchy dancing wildly within his emerald stare.

The sight infuriated Harry for more than one reason; one, because they really didn't have time for it, but mostly because he couldn't seem to silent the fluttering in his chest as he stalked closer to him… the darkness of the vault, with only their wands for light illuminated shadows across his features, intensifying the curve of his lips and the sharpness of his cheekbones, creating a very distracting image that Harry desperately wanted to have take the time to savor; because when he thought about it— and he spent so much time trying not to— he regretted never spending this much time around the exasperating human before him.

Harry lifted an impatient brow. "Well? If you've found something— out with it…"

"You said Hufflepuff, right?"

"Yes."

Theo stepped aside, nodding his chin upward as he cast a charm around the light tipping from his wand and it began rising into the air, stopping only when it hovered near the ceiling. Harry followed the motion to the top of a leaning pile of rubbish, his eyes landing on the small golden cup, the buzz of dark magic practically curling around it and flowing towards them; and for the first time in months Harry felt the faint warming sensation that he was unstoppable again— like he was where he was meant to be in that exact moment.

He hadn't felt that feeling since before he believed Hermione to be dead— when Dumbledore's task for him didn't seem impossible and he would stop at nothing to see it through... but it was there again, bubbling beneath the surface, lighting something within him… something he thought to be dead, never to be revived again.

He forgot how wonderfully dizzying it felt, the adrenaline that pumped through his veins knowing they were one step closer to destroying Voldemort— one step closer to never watching someone die for him again— one step closer to getting justice for every person he lost— one step closer to the _end_—

As his gaze dropped from the cup to find Theo smiling at him, truly smiling, Harry was filled with a swelling sense of euphoria… wondering if Theo would mind reminding him of this feeling everyday for the rest of their short lives.

He doesn't ask.

"You're brilliant."

A bright, unfiltered laugh escaped him as he unthinkingly flung himself towards Theo, framing his face in his hands, pressing his lips against his firmly. Theo clearly hadn't been expecting it and Harry's lips caught teeth as much as lips, but it hardly mattered as he only lingered for the span of a short breath, determined to pull away before he could consider what he had just done.

Getting lost in the ache of his ribs as his heart swelled within his chest, he purposely avoided Theo's confused state of rapid blinking as he seemed to still be processing the moment, then hurried towards the entrance of the vault.

"Hermione! Malfoy! We've found it! Back left, deep in the stacks!" Harry shouted then moment he saw the blur of brown curls and blond hair around a stack of gold, and turned to return to the cup to find a very still, very confused looking Theo in the same place he left him.

"Harry! You've found it?!" Hermione was by his side in the next moment, Draco directly beside her.

"Theo actually." Harry said, nodding up towards the top of the stacks where the light still hovered.

"Is that—?"

"Hufflepuffs Cup!" Hermione answered Draco before he could finish, a smile stretching across her face as she turned to Harry. "Which means we were right, Harry! That means the next one must have to do with—"

"Ravenclaw—" Harry nodded quickly, another laugh of relief flooding out of him. "We're going to end this 'Mione. I can feel it."

"Let's just focus on getting out of this bloody vault first, yea?" Draco commented, moving towards the stall stack, starring up at the cup and then glanced at Theo, who had still not moved. Harry wasn't even sure if he was breathing. "Alright, mate?"

"Hm?" Theo was still blinking rapidly as he turned to Draco.

"You look…" Draco frowned, lazily waving his hand up and down in front of him, "— disagreeable."

"You know how I get in tight spaces—" Theo quppied, shrugging as he turned his gaze to the cup, "—claustrophobia and whatnot."

Draco considered his friend for a moment, realizing once again he shouldn't press him, choosing to not point out that this vault was almost twice the size of the Slytherin Common Room and Theo was definitely not claustrophobic, as he spent most of his life hiding from his father in tight spaces.

Turning to Hermione and Harry he nodded towards the cup. "I'll climb up and grab it. If I slip, I volunteer Granger to cushion my fall."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him as he shot her a wink.

"Why you?" Harry asked quickly.

"You're still a Half-Blood last I checked, yea?"

"Well, yea—"

"Then if you touch anything in this vault I'm fairly certain your fingers will fall off or your flesh will slowly deteriorate from your self-righteous, intrepid little bones—."

"And you thought now was the best time to mention it, and not— I don't know— before we started searching?"

"I told Granger. Not my fault she didn't pass the message along." Draco said with a shrug and began moving up the pile of gold, ignoring both Hermione and Harry grumbling below him.

As Draco carefully placed one foot on a sturdy ledge and searched out another he wondered why this all felt far too simple. He wanted to believe it was Potter's dumb luck, but he was far to cynical.

First, they made it past the atrium full of Goblins, no problem.

Second, they survived the thieves downfall.

Third, they managed to figure out his mother's puzzle of an entirely new lock to actually get into the vault.

Forth, Theo had miraculously pointed out the one gold trinket in this disastrous mess of gold that they needed to find.

And now, he was inches away from holding a part the Dark Lord's soul and still nothing had gone wrong—

"Oh fuck—"

The sound of Theo's cursing from below made him freeze in his efforts, internally hating himself for hoping for a split second it could be this easy.

The loud roar of the dragon accompanied by the rattling of the torture instrument echoed into the vault, ringing in his ears as he reached for the cup, gripping it tightly in his hand. There was a moment of calm that lasted the length of ten seconds as the dark magic filtered from the cup and across his skin. He quickly shoved the bitterly cold shiver away and glanced down to where the others were waiting on him. His gaze shot over the large piles of gold to see a swarm of guards across the arched entry way, Gunther shouting and pointing at them, though thankfully the dragon was still keeping them from crossing the platform.

"DRACO! WE HAVE TO GO! NOW!"

Rationalizing the fastest way down wasn't necessary the safest, he opted to do it anyway. Draco slid down the gold, trinkets falling all around him as he descended unsteadily until he was crashing forward from the velocity, and Potter mistakenly darted out to lessen the blow, knocking him backwards into another pile of gold. Draco's eyes widened in horror as every piece of gold Potter touched began to multiple.

Harry cursed and flinched away from the piece of gold touching his skin, and Draco knew it was searing his skin as a red welp began to form across his neck.

"What the fuck did you just do?!" Draco shouted, yanking Potter to his feet. "You activated a Gemino Curse you idiotic—"

"Draco! Harry! Come on!" Hermione called out from somewhere up ahead. She and Theo had already begun moving towards the exit, avoiding the multiplying trinkets bouncing around them from all directions. She cried out as one of the pieces scraped over her skin, buring her forearm, inches away from her already tender scar.

Draco growled as he felt the gold begin to rise over his ankles and he quickly shoved through it, knowing if they didn't get out now the guards really wouldn't matter because they would suffocate under the weight of it all— Potter and Hermione, burning in agony all the while.

Well, fuck all, that was not happening if Draco could help it—

Forcing Potter forward, and happily ignoring his grunts of pain, Draco focused on Hermione's small frame. She flinched away from the falling items and he felt a pang of relief flood him as Theo pulled her nearer to him, blocking what he could as they shoved forward.

The gold was still rising, almost to mid thigh now, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to move forward. Draco looked up to see Hermione and Theo safely on the other side of the vault. She threw up a shield to keep the trinkets from flooding out as Theo held off the incoming visitors, with the help of the dragon of course... brilliantly, Theo summoned the instrument from Gunther's small hands, but not without sending him a firm middle finger in the process.

It was then that Draco began to calculate how little possibility they had to make it out of the vault in time for all of them to get away. With every shove forward, more and more trinkets bounced off of Potter's skin.

"You can't keep moving! It's only going to keep rising!" He shouted over at Potter, who was trying very hard not to let any of the gold trinkets graze his skin with little success, it was rising to their chests now. Draco stopped, gripping Potter's wrist to make him do the same.

"The fuck are you—"

Before Potter could finish his sentence he felt Draco's hand digging through the rising pile, stopping once it landed on his thigh. The look in Draco's eyes were deadly as he snarled at Harry.

"If we fucking survive this, Potter, _I swear to fuck_ I will murder you if you tell anyone I did this."

"Did wha— HEY! WATCH IT!" Harry's eyes widened as he felt Draco's hand fumbling up his thigh, across his waist and began digging into his pocket.

"Not a fucking word, Potter!" Draco growled as he pulled the invisibility cloak above them and fanned it out across the rising trinkets. With every ounce of strength he had left in him, Draco struggled against the pile until his body was three fourths of the way out and turned back towards Potter, reaching for his hand, and yanking him forward. It took several tugs, both of them sinking as much as they were rising, the cloak at least keeping the gold from burning him as they fumbled towards the entrance. After what felt like a lifetime of drowning they finally made it to Hermione's shield. She dropped it long enough for them to push through and they fell in a heap on the floor, heavy breaths and panting wildly as he and Harry hurriedly struggled to force the vault's doors shut.

Hermione dropped her arms then, staggering backwards, but catching herself before she fell from the exhaustion of the spell. Both her and Harry collecting a new set of red lashes where their skin was exposed to the gold.

"Don't mind me. I'm just fighting off a dozen wizards and dodging a ring of blazing fire. No rush— but, uh— FUCK— PROTEGO!" Theo shouted over his shoulder, "—Dragon's filleted like ten guards already and I'm pretty positive that we're next— the invisible barrier was dropped like five minutes ago and— INCOMING!—" Theo shouted across the platform to the guards, wincing as one of them tried to run past the dragon, only to be caught in a burst of flames moments later. "Ohh— that's gotta hurt."

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked, frantically checking on both Harry and Draco at once.

With a quick nod, Draco hurried to help Theo, tossing a round of hexes across the platform as Theo tossed a shield around them. They switched tactics and Draco shouted over to him, "See any other ways out?"

"None that don't involve one of us dying!" Theo shouted back, shoving Draco out of the way to block the stinger hurdling towards his head.

"Strange isn't it?" Hermione said to Harry as they jogged to join them.

"What is?" Harry asked breathless, tossing a stunner, hitting one of the guards directly in the chest.

"Being saved by Draco Malfoy." She said with a grin, ducking out of the way of a hex that just missed her curls by an inch, and despite the growing tension, Harry laughed.

"Any ideas, oh brilliant one?" Theo called over his shoulder to Hermione.

Hermione glanced around the platform, her eyes landing on the chains of the dragon. She and Harry shared a knowing nod and he began tossing stunning spells furiously, helping her clear a safe path to get an aim on the chains.

"We've got one—" Harry shouted, "—but it's mad!"

Draco threw up a quick shield as a curse whirled towards them, inches away from hitting Theo's shoulder. "We're all ears, Potter!"

"Just follow my lead." He responded.

Draco did not like the sound of that. Before he could respond he realized that Harry was no longer standing next to him. _Fucking Gryffindors—_

"RELASHIO!"

Purple sparks burst along with the sound of a loud 'crack' echoing around the arched platform, and the Dragon's chain blasting into pieces. Draco froze long enough to realize it had been Hermione's wand that had freed the beast.

"On three!" Harry shouted.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder, "Hop on right after us!"

As she turned around and cast another stunner at the guards closing in on them, Draco and Theo shared a quick glance and then watched as the two flung themselves through the air. Draco felt his heart stop as Hermione hardly latched onto the dragons raised spines in time, but Potter's hand was there to pull her up to safety a moment later.

A string of hexes were being whirled his way and he was grateful Theo was quick to block them so he could collect himself from the minor heart attack he was most definitely having.

Draco heard Theo shout "Fuck it!" and the next thing he knew all three of them were hanging on tightly to the beasts spines, but before he could even think to join them a gust of red light latched onto his shoulder, knocking him backwards into the vaults doors.

"Draco!" Hermione called to him.

He could feel the jinx seeping into his skin, but easily ignored the pain and blood as his survival instincts seemed to pump into overdrive. Shoving himself to his feet, he watched as the dragon began to turn it's body, slowly beginning to climb upwards, blocking the guards from aiming at him.

He steadied his nerves, feeling all to certain that he wouldn't make the jump as the dragon's back was now vertical, instead of horizontal. As he readied himself to jump he concentrated on the open spines near Theo and started sprinting forward and launched himself off the ledge—

There was a brief irrational thought that occurred to him while he suspended in the air— fire from the dragon swirling around them and jinxes and hexes buzzing all around, the thought that: if he _were _ to die, well, attempting to jump on the back of a dragon to escape a highly secure vault would be a pretty fucking interesting way to go out— a story worth telling, he hadn't really ever had one of those before—

His body slammed into the Dragon's rough skin, but as he reached for the spine, the silky texture slipped through his finger tips and he felt himself falling downward as he frantically reached for something, _anything_ to grip onto—

Then someone's hands curling around his forearm stopped him suddenly, he grunted out something unintelligible as the pain from the earlier jinx shocked through his body, feeling as if his arm would rip from its hinge if he hung like this for another moment. Gritting through the pain he glanced up to see Potter using all his strength to pull him up, with whatever was left within him he shoved himself up as best he could—

He felt a jolt of fire slash through his shoulder again as the dragon began to move quickly upward as it realized it was no longer chained down. The blood covering his arm continued to make it impossible for Potter to keep his grip and he felt himself slipping again; his feet dangling and body thrashing against the dragon's side. Just as he thought he would fall, another set of hands wrapped around his arm and was quickly yanked him up just in time for the dragon to level out as it came to a pause, perching on the roof and stretching its wings.

"Fuck, Draco— you mother fucker! Heightening the drama's my thing, not yours! Leave the near death experiences to me next time, yea? "

_Theo_.

He felt himself smile despite his arm feeling practically useless.

Hermione and Theo were on the other side of the dragons spines, holding on tightly, a set of ropes around them both. Hermione quickly lifted her wand to conjure another rope, tossing it to Harry, who quickly began to wrap it as well as he could around Draco's torso, and around one of the dragon's spines.

Things started to become a bit hazy for Draco after that. He thought the dragon was about to take flight then, but really he couldn't be certain.

He saw red and black flashes behind his eye-lids, struggling to lift them. Then a bright light flashed as his body shifted into a different position. He managed to open his eyes and instantly began frowning as he realized he was tucked under the arm of Harry _bleeding_ Potter— his stupid, atrocious hair blowing in every direction— glasses slightly skewed on his ridiculous face.

They were probably flying now. Draco wanted to vomit.

"Not a fucking word, Malfoy." Potter smirked down at him as he noticed him glaring up at him. "We're even now."

Draco rolled his head to the side to see Hermione through the gap in one of the dragon's spines, her and Theo both in a similar position as the world spun entirely too fast behind them. The brightness of the sun forced his eyes away, and he dipped his head again to see Potter still smirking at him. His lips twitched lazily as his eyes fluttered shut, unable to feel the searing pain he was sure would demand his attention the moment his adrenaline wore off.

"Fuck you, Potter."

The sound of Harry's laugh was the last thing he remembered hearing as they continued through the sky, higher and higher into the bright sky on the back of a _fucking_ dragon—

_Fucking Gryffindors—_

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**A/N: **WHAAAAAAAT back to back updates? This is a short one, but I didn't want to leave you guys in suspense!


	20. Rising Tides & Other Disasters

**_A/N: _**wait, another chapter? the very next day? yes, yes, it's true. youre welcome. i will ride this random burst of inspiration train for as long as my attention span will allow as to help you all get through this oddity we call life - because what better way to cope than to ignore reality and get lost in a wonderful world of imagination and all the DRAMIONE feels possible.

At least, that's how i'm handling myself these days!

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**A/N pt II:** When I am writing it helps me to be able to picture my characters in real life so I can imagine how they would interact, their body language, etc. SOOOOO... if anyone is interested to know how I picture the characters in this story I've made a cast inspo post on my Tumblr. If you don't have tumblr you can just google them: (if you don't give a fudge and just want to read the story, you can do that too lol)

**Hermione** : the lovely Emma Watson

**Draco** : Lucky Blue Smith (often i envision Tom Felton, but for this particular story Lucky just screamed perfection)

**Harry** : Daniel Radcliffe (though i do love the idea of a middle eastern Harry that I keep seeing in fan art, so if anyone knows of a actor/model they think fits I would love to hear your recommendations)

**Theo** : Luke Powell (he's perfectly Theo in my opinion, I swoon, do yourself the favor of pintresting him)

**Daphne** : Florance Pugh

**Blaise & Pansy** : as casted in the films :)

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**_Chapter Playlist:_**

_In this shirt : the Irreplaceables_

_TALK ME DOWN : TROYE SIVAN_

**_FOOLS : TROYE SIVAN (*NottPott inspo)_**

_Dream : Mountain Bird_

_Waking Up Slow (piano version) : Gabrielle Aplin_

_White Teeth Teens : Lorde_

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Adrenaline still remained in Hermione's veins from their lucky escape, adrenaline that allowed her to not second guess their decision to jump from the large beast into the freezing waters; but the warm pumping of her blood in her veins started fading as she trudged out of the water onto the shoreline. Waves crashed around her ankles as she attempted to control her heavy breaths, her lungs burning from the tole the journey turned out to be taking on her body. The skin near her forearm tingled as the pain beneath in her veins, intensified. Shoving the pain aside she hurried forward, her teeth chattering from the freezing chill flowing over her damp clothes. She stumbled forward, her legs feeling far too heavy, landing on her knees once she was out of the oceans reach; taking comfort in the soft sand catching her fall.

"Hermione! Are you alright?"

She turned to see Harry darting to her side, his shaggy hair clinging to his face, water still dripping from him. She quickly nodded as she felt his arm wrap around her back, guiding her to her feet.

"Yes— I'm— I'm fine. What about you?"

"I'm good." He answered between heavy breaths, lifting his hand to shove his hair straight back, and they both lifted their gaze to search for Draco and Theo. The moment her eyes landed on Theo fumbling out of the water a few yards away with Draco's arm wrapped around him, clinging to him for support, she seemed to forget the pain humming in her bones and quickly jogged over to them.

As they got closer she noticed how much blood was still trickling from the scar along his shoulder, his shirt now sliced open from the jinx. She dug in her bag for her wand and moved to kneel next to where Theo was slowly lowering him onto the sand.

"Fuck—" Draco winced as his head hit the sand. He couldn't seem to keep his eyelids to remain open and Hermione had to suppress the rising panic building inside her to steady her hands.

"Harry— in my bag— there's a green wrap—"

"I've got it."

She felt Harry hand her the cloth as she tore the rest of Draco's shirt off to access the wound. She managed to rid his skin of most of the blood and began stitching the gash in his skin, thankful her fingers remained steady and her mind focused, as he continuous grunts of pain filtered out of his mouth with every stitch.

"There should be a few vials of blood replenishing and numbing potions as well—"

Harry tossed several vials to Theo who immediately moved to tilt Draco's head up and tipped the vial to his lips. He coughed up the first attempt but the second and third went down smoothly.

"What's the wrap for?" Harry asked as she swiftly finished up her stitch work. Draco seemed to be floating in and out of consciousness now.

"I've charmed it to absorb similar properties of essence of dittany as well as a few other herbs meant for relaxing the mind, numbing the pain." She explained and gently lifted Draco's body to sit up so she could wrap the cloth around his chest and shoulder a few times before placing him back down. "The jinx tore deep into muscle tissue so only applying it topically won't heal it immediately. He'll need a few hours before he can use his shoulder again. He may be a little out of it for a while, but it will stop the wound from opening again."

Hermione laid him back down, worrying her bottom lip as she glanced over his exposed skin, surprised to see a thin dull white scar sliced across his collarbone stretching down across his chest and ending on his lower abdomen. Harry seemed to be staring at the same thing, his brow pulled together and a look on his features that Hermione recognized as guilt. Before he could linger in that feeling for too long she quickly made work of covering what she could with the wrap, leaving only the top of his good shoulder and lower abdomen on display.

"We shouldn't apparate with him like this. It's too dangerous. We need to get him out of the wind, somewhere warm."

"I'm fine—"

Hermione's heart spiked as she watched Draco's eyes flutter open and he attempted to sit up, only to flinch and fall back down with a pained growl. She glared down at him as he tried again, only to fall once more. She placed her hand gently over his chest, keeping him down.

"No. You aren't."

"Well we can't stay here." Harry said a moment later as Draco grumbled something unintelligible beneath his breath.

Draco rolled his head to the side, half opening his left eye and lifted his good arm to hit Theo's knee, "Tell hrrrr— tell her mmm…. that mmm perrrfffmecly fffnnnn—"

"You certainly sound fine to me, mate. No clue why she'd think otherwise." Theo said seriously, making Draco snap his fingers and point at him as he glanced back at Hermione, "See Grrnnnnger— Theeeosss'em fennnn."

"If we can't apparate we should at least head towards the tree line. I don't like how exposed we are out here." Harry continued, ignoring Draco's incoherent mumbling.

Hermione nodded, moving to her feet and reaching into her bag. "I agree. We can find somewhere to set up camp deeper in the forest until it's safe—"

"Hold on a bloody minute—" Theo interjected, moving swiftly to his feet to stand before them with his arms folded firmly across his chest. "How many times do I have to remind you Granger? I don't do nature strolls, and I most certainly don't do camping in the fucking woods!"

"Afraid are we, Nott?" Hermione asked, not even bothering to look up from her search within her bag.

She began ticking off her mental checklist for everything they would need if they were forced to remain here for the night, a list she had memorized easily after months on the run with Harry. She was mildly surprised at how easy it felt for her to fall into their survival mode rhythm. She was about to suggest Harry and Theo levitate Draco when the sound of someone whistling a few feet away made her lift her gaze. Confusion spread within her mind as she watched Theo's retreating form move towards the water once more, clapping his hands loudly as he whistled up to the sky.

"Here boy—" He called out, followed by another long string of whistling.

Hermione glanced at Harry who just shrugged seemingly equally perplexed, though slightly more amused than she thought appropriate.

"Here big bastard— here boy—"

She rolled her eyes and strode closer to Theo. "What are you doing?"

He kept his gaze upward, letting out another whistle before responding over his shoulder.

"Summoning the bloody beast back for a ride to the nearest Inn." He whirled around to face her, his features completely serious, which only made Hermione want to laugh at how ridiculous he looked summoning a dragon, drenched from head to toe. "I refuse to sleep amongst the creepy crawlies and dirt and whatever Merlin fuck else. RE - FUSE, Granger— stop smiling. This is serious. I'm completely— Potter, I swear to fuck— both of you stop laughing!"

"I'm not laughing." Harry coughed covering the tail end of his laugh, a wide grin spreading over his still dripping face. "It's totally normal for you to be afraid of the woods, and not funny at all."

He stormed forward coming to a stop in front of Hermione, who was struggling to keep her grin from growing the closer he got. "Theodore Volcom Nott does not do nature!"

She shook her head and glanced down at Draco who was smirking up at his friend, "Eee's right, nnnature disssarees withhuumm," his eyes fluttering shut a moment later.

She turned back to Theo and sighed.

"I'm too exhausted for your dramatic tantrums, Nott— and Draco needs to get somewhere warm before he dies from hypothermia." She leaned down to place the empty vials near Draco in her bag and levitated Draco to his feet, placing a feather-light charm on him and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "We'll be in our cozy little tent in the woods while you await your dragon taxi—"

"Taxi?" Theo blinked as she turned with Draco and began to stalk across the open field towards the woods. He glanced over at Harry who was shoving his hair back from his face once more, still smirking at him like an idiot. "Wipe that fucking grin off your face Potter— I'm not afraid of the bloody woods, I simply prefer my lodgings to be void of the smell animal droppings."

Harry nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "And here I thought you'd be tempted by the chance to have a sleepover with me... at least— I know that was the first thing that crossed my mind—" Harry shrugged, pretending he didn't see Theo visibly stiffen at his words, and started towards the tree line, "—anyway, good luck with the dragon taxi..."

Theo felt his jaw audibly shut, his cheeks burning as he stared after Harry. Though he was still confused about what the fuck a taxi was, Theo was more confused by the personality disorder Harry seemed to have picked up in the last twenty four hours. Only a day ago did he seem beside himself with grief, the image of depression itself, but today he had kissed him. Today he was flirting. Today was different.

Different, but familiar.

This version of Harry was the one Theo spent hours waiting by the Black Lake for, hoping he might stumble out of the castle with the desire to seek him out, to be with him, if only for a moment— even if neither of them would ever admit why they did.

This version of Harry was the one Theo purposely choose the seventh seat, third table down at the Slytherin table for in the Great Hall because he knew it would place him directly across from him; the seat that would allow him to watch from afar as he clumsily spilled his drink in his lap with his hair tossed in every direction because he'd only woken up early enough to be dressed in time for breakfast— where he watched him eagerly nod along to Grangers explanation of something as he scribbled his quill over blank parchment hoping to finish a late assignment before class— where he would imagine the smile on Harry's face being meant only for him, that he was the one sitting next him, whispering something entirely inappropriate as he pressed his thigh against his beneath the table because Theo adored the pink shade that rose to his cheeks when he was embarrassed— where he would would methodically time his glances so that when Harry stood to leave their eyes would lock, and he could replay Harry's reaction of nervously biting his lip before smirking down at his feet in his mind on a loop for the rest of the day and into most nights where he would close the curtains around his bunk for privacy, grip his hand around his stiff length and unashamedly find his release from the thought of wild raven hair, bright green eyes, and that infuriating fucking smirk.

This version of Harry was the one Theo knew.

He knew he almost always missed the third button of his shirt on days he had a Quidditch match from pure excitement.

He knew that he loved to eat, but hardly remembered to because he was used to missing meals.

He knew he was oblivious to almost everything normal people paid attention to— like the way Weasley's sister would blush whenever he spoke to her or the way he claims the attention of an entire room just by entering it— but completely aware of details that are impossible to notice for anyone other than him.

He knew that he was impossibly stubborn, but could admit when he's wrong.

He knew that he thought Hermione Granger the most brilliant person, man or woman, he'd ever met and he only laughed, _truly_ laughed, whenever he was with Ron Weasley.

He knew that whenever someone would tell him that he looked like his parents he would smile and thank them, but on the inside he felt the lingering pain of guilt and regret for being the one to survive when they didn't.

He knew that he would never admit that sometimes, when life becomes too heavy, he's jealous of the dead.

This version of Harry was the one Theo had fallen in love with beneath the moonlight beside the Blake Lake the night he kissed him back, and as Theo watched him walk away he found he could no longer justify wanting to be anywhere else, even if that meant he had to slum it for a night.

As Theo started after him towards the tree line, his heart felt light in his chest, as if it had turned into a hummingbird and had begun hovering, trapped within his ribcage. Just as he catches up to Harry he slows his pace. He feels Harry glance over at him, but decides he can't look at him just yet; not when his mind is determined to make him think of how pitiful he is for allowing Harry to have such a strong hold over him.

"Does this mean you're looking forward to the sleepover after all?"

It takes Theo a moment to collet himself. When he does he decides it's better if Harry doesn't know that _Yes, as a matter of fact, I am, and also, I'm in love with you, so could you maybe not brush your shoulder against mine because I can't fucking concentrate you infuriately perfect disastrous moron— _

Instead, Theo simply scoffs, "You wish, Potter."

Theo had imagined the conversation ending there, well, he hoped, but clearly Harry's mood swings were in full form at this particular moment. Theo felt the lightest touch of Harry's finger graze the small of his back, slowly moving upward until one finger spread into several at the nape of his neck, curling into his hair, forcing them both to stop walking as Harry gently turned Theo to face him and stepped forward so their noses were inches apart. Theo kept perfectly still, not trusting himself as the starving ache building in his lower abdomen steadily grew more intense.

"I really do." Harry smiled, his eyes dropping to Theo's slightly parted lips and Theo wanted to fucking punch him. Harry released his fingers from his hair and took a step back, returning to his trek towards the forest.

Theo clenched his jaw, tossing his head back to stare up at the sky and released a much needed breath, grateful Hermione and Draco were much further ahead of them. He immediately reached to adjust himself in his trousers, refusing Harry the satisfaction of becoming aware of his obvious arousal— shaking his head and inwardly cringing at himself— _you're fucking pathetic Theo…_

* * *

Hermione and Harry immediately fell into their familiar rhythm of preparing their tent for the night. Hermione placed the necessary wards while Harry prepared the inside, unpacking what little food she had in her bag along with her notes and books she's collected concerning their horcrux hunt. Draco was still recuperating, taking occupancy on the bunk near the back on the raised level within the tent.

Triple checking her handy work on the wards she finally felt confidant enough to be of use else where, or finally rest her aching legs. She stood just within the wards barriers, glancing around at her surroundings, knowing in their past camping endeavors it proved useful to be familiar with the area.

It was strange. Thinking of her time before being tucked away in Draco's room. There she had comforts that she had not been able to enjoy while on the run with her best friends and being thrown into the unsettling discomfort that came with the uncertainty of safety, but she was surprised to find that she wasn't afraid at all. Instead, her heart felt warm and full, despite being in the middle of no where during a war she was one of the major targets of.

She thought it might be some odd way her mind was trying to comfort her, to remind her that she had survived thus far— to be grateful. She had spent so much time dreading the thought of never seeing Harry or Ron ever again— of dreading what would happen if the curse in her veins would take her before she could…

But as she glanced around the scenery she knew that nothing was different than the previous time she and Harry were forced to camp on the run. Not really. They were still hunting Horcruxes. They still had one Horcrux with no way to destroy it. They were still in danger no matter where they lay their heads. So why did she feel so incredibly calm?

It was still bright out, but the sun would be lowering soon. She glanced to her right, finding Theo appearing from the hill below. He was walking slowly towards the tent, but then paused as the view over the cliff edge they were perched on caught his attention. His back was to her now as he stood there, seemingly lost in thought. He changed into some of the clothes she had packed in her bag for Harry and Ron, neither really fitting; him being a few inches taller than Harry, but much leaner than Ron.

She smiled fondly at the sight of him in a slightly too large brown jumper and a pair of too snug muggle jeans that rolled above his ankles— finding that he looked very casual out of his usual attire, which was similar to Draco's in that everything was tailored to their lithe frames. She slowly approached him, stopping to stand next to him to stare out at the ocean, thankful for the canopy of trees surrounding them, blocking the chilly breeze. She wrapped her arms around her self, pulling the grey sweater that she borrowed from Harry snugly around her.

He glanced over upon her approach, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips, but neither of them said a word, enjoying the silence that came with their remote location and the stunning view stretched out before them. The ocean's array of blues were a perfect balance of light and dark, the clearer waters inviting and the darker waters framed by storm clouds along the horizon. She found them deeply alluring... drawn to lighter waters upon first glance, but ultimately forced to linger on the darker shades that were much more seductive to the eye, as it took more time to find where the darkness ended or begun; another puzzle, another metaphor for what she imagined happening inside the wizard standing next to her.

She found her thoughts drifting to being stuck in the small closet with him and Harry only hours ago. She thought of his father and how much she hated not being able to hex the man into oblivion. She couldn't imagine being forced to watch someone kill an infant, least of all her her own parent. The image of a younger version of Theo battered and bruised surfaced in her mind and she wondered what happened the other times his father abused him, when Draco couldn't be there for him. His mother took her own life leaving him with a brother only for him to be taken away too. It felt wrong. For someone as intricate as Theo to be haunted with a type of loneliness that neither her or Harry could fathom. Their parents had loved them. Hell, even Draco's parents loved him, protected him in the twisted dark web they weaved for themselves.

Tears burned behind her eyelids, but she forced them to remain there, knowing Theo would probably hate her for pitying him, or deny any of what she heard, playing it off in some callous way.

Funny, she thought to herself, that she believed she knew him enough to understand how he would react to her sympathy. She really hadn't known him in school and the past few months they shared little, but their friendship felt significant somehow.

"You know, it wasn't terrible—" Hermione said casually, breaking the peaceful silence they had been in for several minutes, "—having you along today."

"Suspicious—" Theo tilted his head to narrow his eyes at her, "What gives?"

"What do you mean?"

"Your being uncharacteristically pleasant. It's unsettling."

"Unsettling? I'm just—"

"Ahh— I get it." Theo interrupted, nodding his head and turning to look back over the cliff. "You think I'm out here contemplating the disturbing reality that is my father, is that it? Well, let me settle your overly emotional Gryffindor morality and confirm that I have no thoughts on any matter where Nott Sr. is concerned."

Hermione sighed, realizing maybe she wasn't as good as she thought at keeping her thoughts from seeping onto her face.

"I just wanted to make sure you were—"

"I distinctly remember telling you that I would indulge your curiosities of my childhood _only_ after you are entirely inebriated to the point of possible loss of recollection the conversation ever took place— and _only_ then. So unless you've got a bottle of Firewhisky in that bleeding endless bag of yours then this conversation ends here." Theo said, tucking his hands in his trouser pockets and turning away from the cliff, moving towards the tent but stopping abruptly.

Hermione followed his gaze as she recognized his posture tense slightly, the corner of his eye twitching nervously. When she turned to see Harry moving towards them, she had to suppress her grin as Theo darted his attention away from Harry to her curious stare, her brow lifted in amusement as he swallowed, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as if he couldn't determine which would keep him from having to remain in this situation.

"Nott, where's the firewood?" Harry asked as he eyed the area around the two of them.

"We're wizards you twat. Summon your own firewood." Theo grumbled as he started walking past him, leaving Hermione and Harry starring after him as he shoved himself through the tent's entrance.

"Did I do something?" Harry asked Hermione, coming to join her to replace Theo's place.

"No." Hermione laced her arm with his and leaned her head against his shoulder as they both stared out over the cliff. "He's just irritable— Probably needs a nap."

She felt Harry's shoulder shake under her head as he chuckled lightly, "You say that like he's an infant whose just had a tantrum."

Hermione shrugged, pursing her lips, "I said what I said, Potter."

"Dear Merlin, who are you and what have you done with Hermione Granger? You need to limit your interactions with all Slytherins immediately."

They both laughed and she clung to him a little tighter, feeling the warmth of contentment settling in her bones again, wondering if she should feel guilty for feeling so calm with so much disaster taking place all around them. As if her body needed to remind her of said disaster, the scar on her forearm pulsed to life, her veins burning in a constant dull rhythm she had forced herself to get used to.

The sound of Harry inhaling a long breath helped distract her. She lifted her head to glance over her friend, unable to place the emotions stirring behind his gaze.

"Is it strange that I feel… good?" He said without look at her,"—like genuinely. I know we're hardly any closer to destroying the cup than we are to knowing what the next Horcruxes could be, but— I don't know—" he turned to her, his gaze bright for the first time since they reunited, "— right now, I'm just really happy, or relieved rather? I don't know. Maybe its because you're here... like a part of me isn't missing anymore."

Hermione smiled back at him, knowing exactly what he meant— knowing he was wondering the same as her, if he should feel guilty for letting himself feel anything but rage and grief. The knot in her chest coiled tight as she tried to not think about how difficult it must have been for him, thinking she was dead, the thought of her enduring the same... that she could ever survive loosing Harry was daunting to the point of causing the coil in her chest to snap completely— leaving the imaginary pain in it's wake. She wouldn't think of it. Not ever.

"I think we're owed it, don't you? At least for now?" She settled on saying instead, forcing her lips to curl upward. "I won't tell anyone if you don't."

Harry nodded, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, turning them both towards the ocean again. Both seemingly lost in the contrast of colors, and ultimately settling on the darkness rolling over the sea, hurdling towards them at an agonizing pace, slow but with purpose— demanding their attention, but allowing time to prepare for what it will soon bring— truly, the calm before the storm.

* * *

Pansy Parkinson was a very mistrusting witch on principal. She didn't even trust her own mother, which stems from her very unfortunately fortunate childhood filled with faux love and pretty shells disguising their ugly truths underneath, so who could blame her really? She believed the worst in people until proven otherwise, and even then, mistrusted them still, well, almost everyone. Her eyes found Daphne's across the field. She trusted Daphne as well as she knew how to trust someone, which is more than she had given anyone else. Though, if Daphne ever betrayed that trust, Pansy hated to internally admit it, but she knew it would hardly matter. Daphne could stomp all over her very dark, very fragile heart and toss it to the wolves (ironically speaking), and Pansy would still search for her dirty blonde curls and sun kissed skin in every room.

She was momentarily allowing herself the privilege to remember how beautiful she found her to be in full wolf form. The sandy color of her hair remained, though slightly paler, as well as her piercing eyes which remained the only thing in the world Pansy thought could prevent her from believing true love doesn't exist. It did. It existed in the green and blue iris' of the girl she had foolishly only begun fighting to keep.

Though the image was enough to stop her breath, Pansy was immediately reminded why she rarely allowed herself to get lost in it— it was hardly ever the appropriate time or place, especially while training a pack of immature newly bitten werewolf recruits. Not surprisingly, Daphne had been far more apt to taking on her werewolf abilities. She had always been far too clever for the simple life her parents saw her floating into after Hogwarts. The though selfishly thrilled Pansy... that she could be the one to help her reach something of a higher potential, knowing she was meant for greater things than being a Pureblood wife of some poor sod who would never truly know what beauty they hold within their grasps.

A smile pulled over her lips as she thought of Daphne's parents insisting Theo Nott for their pairing, thinking similarly (absurdly) as her own parents did for her and Draco, that they would be a perfect match. _What rubbish_. Daphne was hers. Yes, she could say that firmly. Meaning it. Believing it. It felt nice, actually.

As for Theo... well, who really knew what that disturbed— though self-proclaimed 'misunderstood'— little lunatic wanted from life? Pansy loved Theo as one loved a lost puppy; she cared for him, but knew without a leash he would set off to mindlessly destroy everything in his path, nipping at the ankles to test his limits and peeing on everything when he'd taken it too far— and he'd do it all with an annoyingly theatrical flare and retreat into himself until you feel responsible for making it up to him. She rolled her eyes fondly, before bringing her thoughts back to the present.

Daphne was explaining the very important need to learn control, not only over your psychical form, but more importantly your mind— how the strength to kill or not kill came from not will, but from want.

"…controlling ones desires is much harder than simply not having the will to kill. It won't mater that you think you don't have it in you to kill while your in full form. It won't matter because the moment you turn, everything is heightened except rational thought. Bloodlust will outweigh will power, I assure you."

With that she began pairing off the recruits, preparing them for dodging spells and blocking them for those who could wield magic. Strategically allowing them the back up of their human form if needed. Several of the recruits took to training with renewed vigor, glad to no longer be under the watchful glare of Greyback; while some feared if they didn't comply they would be sent back to him— no matter how many times Pansy reiterated that this wasn't the case. She knew about choices. There were difficult choices and then even more difficult choices, nothing else. She was giving them the lesser of the two. Not to mention she secretly enjoyed the superiority she felt whenever they looked to her, with respect. She hadn't really ever felt it before. Being a witch in her family was only slightly above being an elf. They served the purpose of continuing the sacred lineage and little else.

Pansy felt her spine tingling, pulling her attention away from the intricate weaving combative dance Daphne was showing them. She lifted her chin, pushing her nose a bit higher in the air as the wind swept over the field, sensing something was off. Slowly she began moving towards the wards barrier, the humming of magic buzzing around her. A moment later the sound of a loud 'crack' alerted her of the two figures appearing in the distance.

Narrowing her eyes and gripping her fists tightly by her side she began to quickly stomp towards a very calm looking Blaise Zabini, his hand wrapped around the arm of a very furious, very fidgety red haired witch.

Now this was a witch she most certainly did not trust.

"What the fuck, Zabini?" Pansy growled. _None of these fucking wizards seemed to keep their cock's from thinking for them, it seemed. _Remembering Daphne's earlier speech about surpassing desires, she decided it's relevancy should be extended to her Slytherin boys as well as the recruits.

The moment they stepped through the barrier, Ginny Weasley's wide eyes darted to Pansy's, tugging herself away from Blaise's hold.

"Let go of me!" She cried and he finally released her, allowing her to stagger away. She paused, her eyes immediately rolling over the open field behind and gasped.

Pansy crossed her arms firmly over her chest, lifting a very impatient brow as Blaise swaggered over to her, taking his place next to her to face Ginny and mirroring her stance, arms over chest and stance tall.

"What's going on? Where did you bring me? Who are they?"

Pansy opened her mouth to speak, but Blaise's silky voice slithered out first.

"This is the proof you requested, Ginevra."

"Proof?" Both Pansy and Ginny repeated with matching dubious expressions.

"That your side is mine." Blaise turned his body slightly to gesture to the group of teenagers listening intently to Daphne as she showed them the proper way to cast a body-binding curse. "While you've been preparing your troops, so have we. I'd wager combining our forces could give Potter the upper hand to really end this— once and for all."

Ginny continued blinking at him and Pansy wanted to roll her eyes at how long it was taking the witch to piece together what he was saying.

"I don't recall giving you permission to use _my_ army to help you prove your undoubtably disturbing courtship with the Weaslette , Zabini."

Blaise continued grinning at Ginny as he leaned towards Pansy, speaking in a false whisper, "You can punish me later. The look on her face right now will be worth it."

"Whatever..." Pansy shivered, releasing a sound mixed between a strangled gag and groan. "Explaining this to Draco, though, is entirely on you. Apparently he and Theo are still stuck Merlin knows where with Potter and Granger and won't be back until morning. Daph and I received Theo's signal an hour ago—"

"Did— d-did you just say Potter?"

Pansy grinned as Ginny began rapidly blinking, jaw hanging open. Clearly Blaise hadn't mentioned that her loverboy was soon to be returning to this very safe house. Pansy felt less annoyed knowing that. She turned to walk away, pausing briefly to pat Blaise on the shoulder twice, glancing smugly from Ginny and back to Blaise.

"Good luck."

* * *

**A/N: **Oh hi, thanks for reading this. I have been so happy reading all of your reactions to the past two chapters that I thought you deserved this as well :) As always, REVIEW & I hope you enjoyed this little filler chapter. I would even venture to claim that the next chapter will be posted before Friday? Or maybe my mind will keep working with me and it will be posted tomorrow? Well, suspense is more fun anyway, right?

**A/N:** I would love to hear any theories you guys have on whats to come; like... (what Volde's been up to and why he hasn't summoned Draco?... or why Lucius has Bellatrix's twin dagger, and why did he need Dolohov and Nott Sr. help?... or really? Greyback hasn't realized that some recruits are missing?...) yea, theories are fun and sometimes your comments spark inspiration to completely rewrite an entire scene to make it more juicy... I like to give the people what they want, but also make you question everything you thought you knew about our little band of characters that I have simply loved exploring and expanding upon - especially Theo, if you couldn't tell from this chapter. I literally write down random thoughts throughout the day of what absurd catch phrases I can give him. He's a gem.

...Ok, that's enough rambling from this nerd - I'm out! Until next time...


	21. Fate & Freedoms

**A/N**: It was so much fun reading some of your theories about what's to come. I can say that almost all of you took it in a direction I wasn't planning on taking, which was kind of thrilling because there's so many possibilities to write the ending of this, and I'm itching to plot it out for you wonderful people. (warning) THIS CHAPTER IS FLUFFF-YYYY.

**A/N (pt II)**: I got inspired to stay up until 5 a.m. the other night and accidentally wrote an entire NottPott One Shot (10k words) based off the characterization of Harry and Theo from this story. It's called **Beautiful Ruins**. I know a lot of you enjoy their pairing and I just couldn't help myself. It's not to be read as a prequel/sequel for this story, but a stand alone story, though some themes of their relationship VERY similar. Anyway, check it out if you're needed a little extra Harry/Theo connection after this chapter, cause whew— it get steamy :)

* * *

**Chapter Playlist:**

_ZURE : Ryuichi Sakamoto (highly recommend this song for reading the first part of the chapter, it's all haunting and gloomy, I love it)_

_Shark : Oh Wonder_

_Landslide : Daughter_

_(*_**_DRAMIONE Moment*_**_) Certain Things : James Arthur _

_Heavy : Linkin Park_

_(_**_*NottPott Moment*_**_) Move Together : James Bay_

_This is the Thing : Fink_

_All the Pretty Girls : KALEO_

* * *

**_Flashback_**

_She was standing her private wing of the manor, surrounded by half finished paintings, the images crowding her mind and her magic with heavy vigor; each image overlapping the next. Gripping her brush in hand she made quick to discover their meanings, providing a different stroke on a different canvas with each new flash of color. Her heart was pounding in her chest so loudly, setting the pace for her frantic work. Her ability to _**_see_**_ had never reacted so sporadically, but try she did, creating the mystery of what she so desperately needed to see. _

_With a vicious lash of green upon a crisp canvas, the becomings of a the killing curse portrayed itself to her— _

_Another stroke, another canvas and the becomings of a golden singlet ring, burning at the touch—_

_Another, a black journal that appeared to be bleeding with a gapping hole in the middle—_

_A locket, she knew to be Slytherin's locket in a cave, and then disappearing into a fog of black smoke in a forest— _

_A sharp bright light jutting out in all directions across the canvas, the form of a greying wizard blurring behind it's vastness—_

_Hufflepuff's cup sat upon a towering pile of gold within her sister's vault— _

_The similar outline of Hogwarts Castle, Ravenclaw tower illuminating brighter than the others—_

_Narcissa Malfoy fell to her knees, the difficulty to breath becoming overwhelming as her magic drained from her. Never had she felt her ability take from her as it did to reveal these images to her. Panting for breath on the marble floors, her eyes scanned over the circle of canvases floating around her…_

* * *

**_Present_**

_Malfoy Manor_

Standing beside her husband, Narcissa Malfoy could practically taste the anger radiating from the Dark Lord, filling her senses, burying itself in her lungs until she felt suffocated with the sheer force of it… she had witnessed his anger on several occasions over the corse of her life, but she knew this was fueled with a different type of fury, of rage, and sheer destruction.

"M-my Lord, m-my Lord…" The small creature crawled timidly backwards as Voldemort strode forward, the rage evident and glaring in the slits of his eyes and his rigid posture. "We t-tried t-to st-sto them… Im-mpostors, my Lord… broke — broke into t-the Lestrange's v-vault…"

She had rarely felt fear, true fear, for her own life any longer, knowing her time was soon to come to an end, but in that moment fear is all she felt, crawling inside her, through her veins as strong as the curse within in them. Cold, trembling fingers latched onto her own. Lucius. Her fingers curled around his without hesitation.

Though the fear within her was deafening, she was very aware of what the Goblin was confessing to Voldemort, and she knew it's meaning. Her son had successfully heeded her message, understanding the pattern she drew into his hand all those days ago.

"Impostors?" Voldemort seethed, striding forward as Nagini wrapped herself around the room, causing the Goblin to have no where else to flee. The other creatures around the room were trembling with fear. "What impostors? I thought Gringotts had ways of revealing impostors? Who were they?"

Narcissa pulled in a sharp breath. _No. No. Please. Please, Draco must not be a target. _As if sensing her heightened surge of fear, Lucius gripped her hand further, placing his body protectively in front of hers least he need to shield her. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to fall to the floor in a dizzying rage. _You fool! What hat little her life meant if her son was found out…_

Her magic tingled within her, the familiar tug on her chest, alerting her to pay closer attention to it implications, just as it had the day that Hermione Granger bleed on her drawing room floor. The same shift in her magic occurred in this moment, though she was having difficulties focusing on the importance of what it was trying to convey to her as she awaited to hear her son's name from the Goblins mouth. Her need to _see_ overpowered her, her magic taking over to display the onslaught of images of the future that was revealed to her the night her son decided to save the girl… and time seemed to still.

_Flashes of vicious green upon a crisp canvas, a golden ring with the burning touch, a black journal with it's gapping hole, a locket in a cave, a cup in a vault, Ravenclaw tower… _

Her magic swelled inside her, pulsing with renewed vigor, urging her to pay closer attention.

"It was… It was… the P-Potter boy and t-three accomplices…"

_They didn't know. Draco was still safe. _

Breath found her once more. She released her grip on Lucius' hand, stepping in front of him discreetly to listen closely, though she found she had no need to as the demand that filtered from the Dark Lord was loud as it was murderous.

"And they took?! _Tell me!_ What did they take?"

"A…" The goblin faltered as Nagini brushed behind him, "…a s-small golden c-cup, m-my Lord…"

Narcissa closed her eyes to his response. She had already seen it once and had no intentions of watching it again, though flashes of green upon a crisp white canvas danced wildly behind her eyes. But what she had not seen in her vision was the painful cry that escaped Voldemort as he cast the last killing curse.

Her eyes shot open to see the unfiltered vulnerability in his gaze as he stared in confused panic at the wand within his grip. Narcissa noticed the wand vibrating, eyes focused on the newly formed crack in it's handle. She quickly adverted her eyes to the ground before her feet as he slowly turned towards them.

The sound of Voldemort's hissing whispers caused her to lift her head, though she could not make out the words meant for Nagini, the familiar tug in her chest confirmed what it was her magic needed her to pay close attention to. Her gaze settled on the snake, unable to look beyond her drawing room floor blanketed with corpses, crimson stains seeping out beneath them.

_Nagini…_

Voldemort glided across the room, pausing just as he passed Narcissa and Lucius. There was a long stretch of silence and Narcissa could feel the clawing of his magic surrounding her. She was certain she had never seen any weakness in him, though their was a frailty to his expression and it terrified her more than his fury.

"I do not wish to be disturbed. Have no one summon me, least they wish it be their last mistake…"

* * *

The sound of thunder rumbled off in the distance, hinting at the inevitable downfall that was soon to come. Hermione found that she rather liked the density in the air before a storm. She liked the way it settled into her skin and lungs, allowing her a moment to breath in the time in-between the thunder and down pour. But mostly she knew she enjoyed it because it reminded her of Sunday morning's back home in the Garden Suburb, where she would be curled up on the reading nook in the kitchen as the thunder clouds rolled overhead, where her father would already be reading the paper with a cup of coffee in his hand as he let the pancakes cook a little too long because he was lost in an engrossing article, and her mother would give her a radiant smile as she fumbled down the stairs in her pajamas, rolling her eyes fondly at her husband, shoving him aside so she could start a new batch. They spent their days doing simple, mundane things, as the storm roared outside their home.

She smiled fondly at the memory, wiping a tear from her cheek and concentrated on the task at hand, tending to Draco's wound. She began unraveling the green cloth from around his chest and shoulders slowly as to not disturb him.

Whenever her mind drifted to her parents though, they always began with her heart humming happily, only to be drained of the warm feeling moments later as she remembered how far away they were, how they had no idea that her daughter was currently dying from a curse in her veins, fighting a war they would never know about—

The feeling of a cold hand on her cheek startled her. Her eyes opened suddenly to find Draco staring up at her, his expression dark with concern as his thumb gently soothed her damp cheek. She smiled brightly, despite the heavy weight in her chest. Seeing him awake, his color returning to his face, his hand on hers, it was enough to sooth the pain.

"H-How are you feeling?" She asked, shifting where she kneeled beside the makeshift bed he was on until she was sitting next to him, tucking her knee under the other as she placed her hand over the one he had on her cheek and brought it down to rest in her lap. "Do you need another numbing potion? I've got one in—"

She moved to reach for her bag, but his fingers gripped hers and she was stopped short.

"Dont— just… stay for a moment." He choked out, clearing his throat and then gave her a weak smile that made her pulse soar.

"Okay…" she managed to say, knowing she should probably be checking his wound, but finding it difficult to remove her attention from his eyes on her, they were truly deceitful eyes, she imagined he could convince her to do anything in that moment, logic be damned.

"Where are we?" He shifted up to lean on the pillows behind him. The sheet that was covering him dropping to his waist, revealing his bare chest and stomach to her. She adverted her eyes then, blushing as she made work on the rest of the bandage.

"We had to set up camp for the night. I didn't want to risk splinching you with the amount of blood you already lost. I'm not sure which coast we're on exactly, but I've set the proper wards and as soon as you're all healed we can return to the safe house."

Her hands were pulling the last of the fabric from his shoulder, and she realized then she was leaning over him, her chest inches from his. She ran her fingers along the scar that was almost entirely healed, save for the point the jinx latched onto him. At hearing his breath catch, she tilted her face to his, her breathing slowing and finding she couldn't stop her eyes from lowering to where his tongue slowly wet his lips.

He smirked, probably noticing the deep shade of pink rising to her face.

"Um, you must be thirsty." She said quickly, leaning back to reach for her wand and summoning him a glass of water. She ignore the slight chuckle that feel from his lips as she handed it to him.

"Thank you."

Bugger, now she couldn't stop looking at his lips curl around the glass. She busied herself with tidying the small table beside them as he finished the rest of the glass. She felt the bed shift beneath her again and he was sitting up fully now, his hand fell gently on her knee and slowly moved upward.

"Are we alone then?"

She lost grip on the vial in her hands for a moment, fumbling with it for a brief second before placing it in her bag, focusing with increasing difficulty as his hand stopped mid thigh, gently squeezing—

"Um, sorry? What?"

She was going to seriously slap him if he licked his lips again.

"I meant… are Theo and Potter here as well?"

"Oh…" Duh. Hermione. "Yes, they, um, I left them by the fire to come check on you— to make sure you were alright."

Draco nodded, "…and are you? Alright, that is?"

The pull of his brows returned from when she had first found him starring up at her as he removed her fallen tear. As she looked down at his hand still holding her, she smiled and let out a soft sigh before lifting her head again.

"Yes. I'm more than alright. I think. We're all safe for now, and one step closer to ending this. I'm not sure I could ask for much more."

"If you could…" He lifted his other hand to her throat, his thumb tracing her jaw. "…ask for more?"

The memory of his emotions flooding through her as they stood just outside the vault suddenly filtered into her mind. Feelings of him writhing in pain as his mothers cries tore through his chest— feelings of a child's fear trying to understand how Theo's father could be such a monster— feelings of curiosity and repressed longing as he battled with his growing attraction to her— the unbearable discomfort it caused him.

Contradicting thoughts consumed her in that spilt moment: guilt and desire. It was her who caused his magic to weaken his only way to protect his mind, but it was also her who caused him to reveal the beauty that resided beneath everything he had been forced to tuck deep inside him.

_I only ask you to consider how different your life would be had you not been given the opportunities to explore your instincts— to live your life without the freedom to feel, to act without fear of putting those you love in harm by doing so; that is what it has been like for my son…_

His mothers words had not left her. They continued to haunt her, weighing heavily in her chest along with her parents, and so much else.

_All I have ever wanted for my son is to no longer need to hide himself from the world—_

It was glaring Hermione in the face, why she wanted Draco to have the chance to be free of the chains her and her husband choices place upon him; she could see it clearly as the color in Draco's eyes staring back at her.

_I am not telling you this in hopes that you can stop his labyrinth from deteriorating— I am telling you this in hopes you will destroy it._

"Hermione…"

His voice brought her out of her dark tunnel of thoughts, and she realized he was wiping a tear from her face again. He framed her face with his hands, forcing her to look at him.

"What's wrong? Did I— Did I do something?"

She hated how panicked he sounded. She wanted to rid him of every thought inside his mind. She wanted to rid him of all the suffocating pain, but she had no clue where to even begin. His confession from hours earlier began ringing in her hears above all else—

_Only when I'm kissing you… _

_It felt right to let you in…_

_You could admit to me right now you have every intention to completely break me…_

_I think you may have already…_

She would tell him about his mother. She would. But first she wanted to silence the torturous emotions raging inside him, and he had already told her how after all… hadn't he?

_Only when I'm kissing you… _

Her fingers curled around his wrists, lowering them from her face, keeping her gaze locked on his. Tentatively, she mimicked his touch from earlier, slowly tracing her fingers up his thighs and steadying them on the curve of his waist as she leaned towards him. She saw the flash of his confused frown lifting slightly as he lips parted. She hesitantly shut her eyes, feeling her chest rise and fall between them. She could feel his breaths tickling her mouth as she leaned her forehead to rest on his.

"I think I'd ask for more time with you."

He was either to caught up in where her hands were on his bare skin, or forgot his earlier question, making a smile, shy smile tug on her lips as she pulled back enough to look at him.

"You asked me what I would ask for… if I could ask for more…"

She noticed his throat swallow and then her lips were being pressed to his as he cradled her head in his hands once more. His kiss was firm, but slow, as if he wanted her to set the pace, to tell him what she wanted from him, but this wasn't about her, this was about him. In hopes to inform him of that, she shifted him back until he was laying down and brought one leg over him. The moment he recognized her intention, his strong hold on her face moved down her body to grip either side her waist to steady her above him. She lowered her body until she was flush against him, the expanse of exposed skin beneath her collarbone where her shirt hung low graze his bare chest, sending a shiver of want directly through her.

Removing her lips from his she moved them to rest on the skin just beneath his jaw, remembering the dizzy feeling his lips gave her when he sucked and licked lightly there. His fingers gripped into her as a low groan escaped him, and she felt his hips lift into hers. The sensation of feeling him pressing against her momentarily caused her brain to stop functioning and the focus on his neck and ear was abandoned completely. One of his hands moved to her hair, gripping lightly and forcing her lips back to his.

Their movements suddenly became increasingly frantic to out do the others touch. Her hips rolled against him with the same amount of force he pressed his upward, their mouths finding the others between shuddering breaths.

And it felt _Fated_ somehow… being with him like this; as if the universe demanded it into fruition, fighting for their souls to end up tangled with one another… fragile as their lives were, they found strength in the other, and perhaps she felt it the moment she realized he risked his life to save her, perhaps he knew too... that her wanting him, him wanting her, felt too exceptional, too strong to be a coincidence— but rather, Fates grand design to thrust them into the most pleasurable of tortures produced from war.

Because that's what it's been for them from the beginning, hasn't it? Two sides apposing in a world they have just begun to challenge, to question, to change… and now that they were beginning to do that together, well, it felt like the start of something bigger than either of them. She felt it simmering inside, deep within the swells of her soul, a part of her that only after knowing him, _seeing_ him, like this, she could reach.

Her hands explored the skin along his chest and down his stomach, savoring the way his muscles clenched beneath her touch. Her fingers traced the haunted stories along his skin, the scars that represented every painful memory she longed to help him heal from.

He had kissed away the tears she shed moments ago, and his lips tasted of understanding— an understanding that they were still at war, that they couldn't begin rebuilding themselves, bone by fragile bone, until it was over… but right now, every touch, every sigh, every kiss was a promise; a promise to survive…

* * *

"Where do you figure a dragon ends up after a lifetime of misery?"

Harry sat up slightly at hearing Theo's sudden question, abandoning his attention from Hermione's journal of notes on their horcrux hunt for the twelfth time, hoping something would trigger his connection inside Voldemort's mind for answers. It didn't.

He was leaning against a large log that he moved around the fire. Theo was laying on his back staring up at the sky through the canopy of trees. He had refused to join Harry at first, of course, but the sun was almost completely setting now, the chilling temperature was unbearable without the warmth of a fire and extensive warming charms. The moment he relented to join him, he had immediately shut his eyes, making it clear he had no intention of conversation, which Harry didn't mind, because it allowed him to look at him, truly look at him.

His tall frame was stretched out beside the fire. He was wearing a pair of Harry's jeans that were entirely too snug. Upon noticing this, an embarrassing heat rushed to Harry's face for wanting to wear them after him… knowing his skin was pressed against the fabric before him caused something in his stomach to tighten. It wasn't just the pants that caused him to stare longer than necessary though… it was much more than that.

It was the way his dark brown hair fell over his forehead and his neck stretched back enough for Harry to see his pulse beneath his skin, both causing him to want to shove his fingers through his hair and taste his heartbeat against his throat.

It was the sharp structure of his jaw and cheekbones, forming a perfect frame for his full lips, but his favorite feature to admire, which was currently hidden from him, were his eyes, and the way they spoke to Harry without saying a single word.

Harry came to terms with his attraction to Theo long ago. It wasn't as if he was strictly attracted to one gender or the other. All of his past interests were females and he enjoyed snogging Ginny just fine, and he had never really felt any attraction towards any other males (not that he particularly had time to consider such things in his very chaotic life)...

But Theo…

Theo was different.

As he continued to shamefully indulge in his observations, he noticed something beyond the physical parts of Theo that also lured him… he noticed that even when he appeared to be sleeping, there was a sadness set on his features, a haunting type of sadness that seeps into your skin and your teeth and you taste its bitterness no matter how much time passes—

For all the nights they spent talking and passing notes in secret, Harry realized, with much disappointment, that he never really took the time to ask Theo much about himself at all. Theo was always happy to distract him with random nonsense or allowed him to talk about himself in a way he couldn't with anyone else. He knew very little about his childhood, his parents, his past relationships… he hardly knew who he considered his friend, aside from Draco Malfoy.

All he knew was that he enjoyed being around Theo. Theo made him feel normal.

But after overhearing his father earlier, Harry wished more than anything that he did know.

For a while, Harry had thought he had fallen asleep, but just as suddenly he was asking him about the bloody dragon.

"Dunno." Harry shrugged, placing the journal beside him and tossing another log into the fire. "To do whatever one does when they're free, I suppose."

Theo tilted his head to look at Harry then, his eyes studying him for a moment before returning to gaze at the sky.

"If it were you...?"

Harry frowned. "Um, am I a dragon in this scenario? Because if so—"

"Don't be clever, Potter. You know what I meant."

Harry failed to hide his smile as he released a sigh, considering the question. Freedom. Freedom for Harry would mean no more horcruxes, no more war, no more death. Attempting to imagine a future after the war, with Voldemort dead, had never really been a priority for him, but people have told him where they see him ending up and he supposed it wasn't the worst answer to give.

"I suppose I'd want to continue protecting people. I'll probably end up an Auror. I've certainly got experience, so there's that."

Harry expected a quick response, but as another few moments passed he wondered if Theo had fallen back asleep, but just as suddenly Theo shifted from where he lay on his back to lean against the log next to him. He crossed his arms over his chest, the fire was dancing wildly over his features with the darkness of the sky falling behind him and Harry, for the life of him, couldn't look away. He turned to Harry then, his expression flat.

"You'd make a shit Auror-"

"—Thanks for the honesty—"

"—mostly because I know you'd despise it eventually."

Harry laughed, wondering if maybe he was right. He usually was where Harry was concerned, like he knew him better than he knew himself— or at least he knew what Harry truly wanted before he knew himself, or could admit it to himself.

"Yea. Maybe"

Theo just shrugged, turning to the fire. Harry saw it again. The sadness. He wanted to know, but he also knew how flighty he was when cornered into revealing parts of himself he worked so hard to keep hidden.

"What about you?" Harry asked instead. "After all this, what's your freedom look like?"

Theo didn't seem to like that question either, but eventually answered.

"Nothing. Anything. I'd imagine. Probably."

"How very specific of you."

"I really haven't given it much thought."

"Why not?"

Theo shifted slightly, straightening his back, pulling one knee towards his chest to rest his arm over it.

Theo doesn't tell Harry that he actually has considered his future. Several times. Both versions. The only versions that seemed worth considering to him anyway. One where Harry lived and one where Harry died.

He doesn't tell him that he's imagined a future where Draco holds true to his promise before Granger stumbled into his drawing room, the promise that they'd run as far as they could if Voldemort won, but then he's forced to consider what that would mean—

It would mean that Harry failed...

That he was dead.

Theo forced himself to take a breath, but it didn't happen as easily as he intended as there was something lodged in his throat. He eventually managed to take a shuddered breath and after a moment he turned to look at Harry. He was already staring back at him, waiting for a response with his brow pulled tight in concern.

And Theo was reminded of the boy by the lake. The boy who kissed him back. The boy he confessed: _Don't die— I would very much hate it if you died…_

It had been so easy to say those words to him then. So why was Theo struggling to even hold his stare without feeling like someone was carving his heart from his chest?

Instead, all he could manage was, "Doesn't matter," then returned his gaze to the fire, staring into it, hoping it would reach out and consume him, if only to keep him from imaging a world where Harry didn't exist.

He's grateful Harry let's the silence stretch between them for awhile. He doesn't force him to refuse to talk and lash out before storming off. He seems to understand and maybe he does, which is why he remains silent. Maybe he just wants Theo with him, even in silence, like they used to…

Theo suddenly thinks he's sitting too close to him. He also thinks he's sitting too close to the fire, too. It's burning his face, both are burning every inch of his skin just by remaining there, right next to him within reach, right _fucking_ there—

Harry shifted, lifting his hips to lay more comfortably back against the log, his legs stretching out against his own, bringing him closer to Theo… too close. Theo swallowed. The fire seemed to notice his discomfort, a spark cracked from the flames, the amber landing on his boot. Theo just watched it. It didn't burn, it didn't catch fire— it just sat there—

Theo wished he could be content just sitting there, despite the discomfort, despite the pain in his chest, despite the coiling of tension below his waist from the heat of Harry's leg against his.

But then Harry was leaning forward, his chest lightly grazing his shoulder as his arm stretched across him, towards his ankle.

"Just going to let it burn?"

Harry's hand flicked the amber away, but he didn't pull it away, instead it dropped it on the exposed part of his shin where his pants rolled a bit too high. His cold fingers felt like ice against his skin as he curled them around his ankle and then he was looking at Theo.

His face was blocking his view of the fire.

He swallowed.

"You're blocking my view of the fire."

The twitch of Harry's lips into a smile caught his attention, but then his hand began trailing upward until it paused on his thigh. With a clenched jaw, Theo watched it remain there. He watched Harry's thumb slowly torture him with every stroke forwards and backwards…

"You know," Harry started, dropping his chin slightly to watch his own hand, his thumb pressing lightly against his inner thigh and back to the top— they both watched, like it meant something— that touching Theo meant something to him. "I wasn't sure what to think of you showing up at Shell Cottage that day. I probably should have reacted differently. Punched you maybe?"

Theo, despite his rising panic from being so close to Harry and the fact that if he just leaned forward an inch he could feel Harry's hair graze his lips, he heard himself laugh— it was small, more like a release of breath, but it helped displace some of the want building between his thighs.

"But I know you." He lifted his chin, his green eyes shadowed by the fire dancing behind him, and fuck— Theo couldn't think of anything more fucking perfect. "I knew you weren't there to hurt me—I wasn't in the best head space then, but it didn't matter what side you were on, I knew that to be true at least."

His thumb, the fucking thumb that was forcing Theo into a state of deliriousness, stopped moving. It, as well as the rest of his hand, were now firmly planted in the dip between his hip and rips.

"I'm glad it was you that came for me. I'm also glad that you're here now."

He wasn't sure when it happened, but Theo's eyes were shut. He wasn't breathing again. He couldn't. He needed to get away from this moment. From Harry. It hurt too much.

"Despite what you think, I didn't do it for you."

_Lies. _

_Fucking miserable lies, Theo. You pathetic fucker. _

"Why did you?"

"To escape the mundane… boredom… lack of other comparably interesting options—"

"Really." Harry interrupted seriously.

Theo opened his eyes, which was a mistake because Harry had somehow inched closer. "Really."

"Theo."

He was forming a quick response, another snide comment to hopefully break Harry from his interrogation— something that would make Harry stop looking at him the way he was looking at him, with clarity— like no matter what Theo confessed, a lie, the truth, Harry would still look at him this way, like he was worth figuring out… and for someone who spent their entire life needing to _not_ be seen, not fully, it was obvious to Theo in that moment that there was no use. Not with Harry.

Because Harry was looking at him— truly looking— like he desperately wanted to see more.

Where others would look at Theo and dismiss him as an oddity, accepting just the glimpses he so delicately crafted for them to see— Harry would look closer.

And Theo was fucking terrified of what would happen if he got too close.

Theo leaned his forehead to rest on Harry's, releasing a sigh when Harry lifted his hands to either side of his face.

"Don't fucking die." His voice cracked. They both heard it, and Theo felt all the words he kept beneath the surface coming tumbling out of him. His hands seemed to need something stable to cling onto, one gripping tightly to the back of Harry's neck while the other gripped the collar of his shirt. "Promise me? Just— whatever way this all ends— I need you to not die— I need—"

Fuck. He couldn't breath. He tried and it turned into a bitter laugh at hearing how pathetic he sounded.

Harry gently tilted Theo's head back, grazing his nose against Theo's and then moved it across his cheek until his lips were beneath his ear. Theo's body responded without hesitation, tilting his neck to the side to allow him more access to his skin, shutting his eyes as Harry's lips pressed against his neck. His kiss was soft and he continued with agonizing slow speed down his throat, as if he wanted to savor the taste of Theo on his lips. He moved from his ear, pausing beneath his jaw to suck lightly, then another kiss along his jaw, nipping the skin there and tracing his lips upward to press another just below his eye. Theo could feel himself melting with each gentle touch.

As Harry moved his lips back to hover before Theo's, he opened his eyes to see Harry's were misty with unshed tears. Theo couldn't place the tugging on his chest, the feeling telling him that this wasn't how he was supposed to respond to him asking him not to die. He wasn't supposed to kiss him like this, like he needed Theo to feel worshipped. He was supposed to make a smart remark about him being the Boy Who Lived and laugh, but he wasn't laughing. He was just staring at Theo like he would never be able to again.

Theo didn't ask why there was a tear rolling down his cheek; instead, he placed his hand on Harry's waist and nudged it towards him until Harry was straddling him. His lips crashing against his and there was no longer anything gentle about his touch as he responded to Theo's bruising grip on either side of his waist. Theo felt Harry's hands buried in his hair, twisting it in his grasp and rubbing them down his neck and chest, and back to his hair as he pressed his hips into his.

Theo tasted the salt of his tear in his mouth.

He couldn't think of what it meant. He already knew and it fucking broke him.

Harry would die if that's what it took to end this.

He would and Theo hated him for it. He hated him for making him care about what happens to him. He hated him for make him love him so madly that the thought of him dead made him want to die too; which is probably why he wasn't concerned with Hermione or Draco walking out of the tent to see him pulling Harry's sweater over his head— or see him shoving him onto his back to trail a mess of bruising kisses down his chest and stomach— or see him shoving Harry's pants down his thighs, marveling at how fucking perfect he was and taking him in his mouth until the thought of him dying was pushed aside and replaced with making him feel how long Theo had wanted this—

He wasn't concerned with anything besides the sounds Harry was making as he tangled his fingers in Theo's hair and shoved himself deeper— Theo was certain he would never enjoy music ever again, the song Harry was singing for him would be the only sound that would ever be enough—

"Theo—"

And that was the best fucking sound of all: his name curling off his lips in the form of a moan.

Lifting his lips from his base to his tip, he glanced up to see the most beautiful fucking sight in his life. Harry's mouth parted, heavy breaths escaping him as he watched Theo's lips slide down him again.

"Fuck— Theo, that's— that's perfect. You're perfect." Harry dropped his head back, shutting his eyes and Theo could feel him building against his tongue. He took him deeper until he could feel his cock in the tightness of his throat and remained there, allowing Harry to thrust his hips as fast as he needed to find his release. He felt Harry's fingers yanking on his head, telling him he was about to finish, but Theo didn't pull away, instead he moved his lips up and down until his warmth spread inside his mouth and down his throat. He had imagined the taste of him every night since he was thirteen, there was no fucking way he was going to let him finish anywhere else.

Theo licked his tip before releasing him, making Harry shudder. Harry was no longer gripping his hair. His arms were laying uselessly by his side. Theo crawled over him, laughing slightly when he found Harry was still shaking from the experience.

"Theo…" Harry breathed out, gripping Theo's jaw and pulling him down, placing a rough kiss on his lips and letting his head fall back again. "Theo—"

"That good, huh?"

Harry nodded vigorously. "Better."

Theo kissed him again, softer this time, pulling back to just take him in. He leaned back, sitting beside Harry as he pulled his pants back on. The reminder of the tear was gone, but the thoughts that came with it was burning into Theo's skull as much as the fire next to them.

"Your intention is to die then? Despite me request."

Theo didn't want him to answer. He hadn't even really meant to ask it. Harry was silent for a minute and then Theo felt his hand on his arm, pulling him towards him until they are both laying down with Theo's head on Harry's chest. He hated himself for it, but he curled around him, as if they fit together, and not like he figured this out just to have it taken away when the sun rises. Clearly, Theo wasn't concerning himself with reality.

Theo was tracing his fingers across his skin, finding it softer than he imagined, more scars, but, softer.

"I'm not going to pretend it isn't a possibility. I won't lie to you."

No. Harry wasn't the liar. Theo was. He was the one who pretended he didn't need him before now— before he knew what he tasted like, or what his kiss could could do to him, what they could do again and again until neither of them knew where the other ended and the other began—

He had already needed him before he knew any of those things and now…

Well, he was sure it was worse now, but he would have felt like his world was burning either way— burning with absolutely no concern of what would come of him in the aftermath.

"I think the only thing I regret is not understanding you sooner. If I had we could have had this— more— I should have told you how—"

"Don't." Theo shut his eyes, shaking his head slightly, bringing his lips just above Harry's chest and pressing a kiss over his heart. "I don't want to know. It doesn't matter now."

Theo didn't want to think about how long he wanted him, longed for him, craved just to see him everyday for since he was thirteen… that the thought of seeing him was enough to remind him why he needed to wake up the next day—

He couldn't take it if Harry said he felt the same way. He couldn't take knowing—

"I think I could love you."

Theo's eyes shot open. He tilted his head up to look at Harry. He wasn't looking at Theo, but the shelter of the trees above them.

"Properly. I could love you— make you see how much you deserved to be loved, even when you think you don't… Even when you wouldn't let me, I would keep on loving you…"

Harry brought his hand to the side of Theo's face, a sad smile pulled at the corner of his lips.

"Do you think you could have?"

That was the _thing_.

The thing that was… well, _everything_ for Theo.

The thing was that he did— _does_— _always_ has— and most definitely _always _ _will_— but that wasn't what he was asking.

"You're the only person I could ever love." He confessed, his voice hardly above a whisper. "I wish you weren't— I wish it was anyone else."

Harry nodded. Like he understood. He couldn't possibly understand.

"I'm sorry."

Maybe he did understand. Maybe he understood that loving him was like loving a memory of someone, holding onto it, delusional enough to believe you could hold onto them without being driven to insanity.

"I want to change my answer." Harry said suddenly.

"What?"

"Earlier— when we were talking about our future. I want to change my answer."

Theo waited, moving to lay next to him again, facing each other, both their limbs drapped over one another—

"You were right. I would be miserable doing what I've spent my whole life doing. I've been fighting a fight that I never had a choice to be apart of. It's determined everything that's happened in my life. That's why I said an auror, because that's what people expect me to say." Harry smiled and placed his fingers on Theo's lips, softly tracing them. "But you're right. I think I'm just terrified that once I have to make my own choices, I'll just end up disappointing everyone's version of who I am in their minds."

"Fuck everyone else." Theo said simply. "You deserve to make a million mistakes— you don't owe anyone anything. You've spent your entire life doing what they want. You should be able to fuck up as much as you need to until you figure out what you want."

"I could say the same to you, you know."

"No." Theo shook his head, making Harry's hand fall from his face. "It's not the same. I hid in my cage. I thought if I was invisible enough to everyone else then somehow I wasn't apart of it— that I wasn't responsible—"

"You're still just a kid, Theo. You can't be expected to take the blame for your father—"

"So are you! I don't see anyone trying to make it easier for you—"

"I don't need—"

"Yes." Theo said firmly, sitting up. "Yes, Harry. You do. I know you think this is all on you, but that's only because it's all you've ever known. No one should have to go through what you did. From the moment you set foot in this fucking world you've been fighting. Nothings ever been easy for you. You deserve something easy. You deserve to just fucking live—"

Harry sat up quickly, "People will die if I just fucking live, Theo! I don't get the choice!"

"THEN WHY DID YOU MAKE ME FUCKING CARE?!" Theo shouted, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He never shouted. He didn't usually let himself, and he hated doing it, it made him feel like he was becoming his father. He knew Harry was right, he knew it, but he was selfish and really it was only a matter of time before he fucked this up— Harry didn't deserve to be yelled at, or to know how fucking miserable he was because of him, but Theo was already yelling and he couldn't bring himself to stop. "WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST LET ME KEEP PRETENDING THAT LOVING YOU, BUT NEVER HAVING YOU COULD BE ENOUGH! WHY COULDN'T YOU— " His voice was shaking now, "Why couldn't you just let me fucking want you like I was and not— not like— like—"

"Like I love you too?"

Theo nodded.

"Because I won't lie to you Theo."

Theo hated crying as much as he hated shouting.

But he was crying now.

He hated Harry for holding him, for wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him towards him. He hated the way Harry let him him bury his tears into his chest. He hated the way his own breaths sounded like strangled sobs. He hated the way he curled his own fingers into fists just to keep himself from hitting something. He hated watching his own tears fall onto Harry's skin and roll down his stomach.

But he hated himself most for loving Harry Potter; that, out of everyone, he had to fall in love with the one person who was determined to sacrifice himself for the fucking world— he hated that he couldn't hate him at all.

Theo wasn't sure how much time passed as Harry held him. All he knew was that he would never hate anything as much as he loved Harry.

* * *

**A/N**: Holy angst, guys. This chapter was a bit heavy for me to write, like attempting to balance the smut/plot/character development ratio I'm constantly trying to perfect, and I hope I was able to get at least a portion of it right. Anyway, I'm soooooo excited for the next few action packed chapters were building up to— cause SHIT IS ABOUT TO DO DOWN. I hope you were alright with the lack of plot progress so we could let our people comfort one another a little before ALL THE SHIT GOING DOWN! (I feel like I may be over exaggerating, maybe not?)

As always, REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW, I love hearing your thoughts :)


	22. Crash & Burn

**A/N**: This is a very short chapter. I intended it to be in the previous chapter, but wanted to tweak it a little.

* * *

**Chapter** **Playlist**:

_Neptune : Sleeping At Last_

_Someone to Stay : Vancouver Sleep Clinic_

_Dust to Dust : The Civil Wars_

_Chariot : Jacob Lee_

_One Last Time : Jaymes Young_

* * *

The difference in her touch is palpable, he can feel it, taste it in her kiss, every breath designed for him to understand her intentions. The salt of her tears in his mouth relay a deeper meaning, and finds it impossible not to meet her intensity.

Draco had never kissed anyone like this before, with intention to convey his deeper desires, his true feelings and emotions shoved into every touch. He thinks she can hear what he can't say as he holds her against him and kisses her with a desperate hunger.

He can feel it in her shuddered breaths mingling with his, that although they're at war, she's kissing him like they've already won. Hard, urgent, victorious— like they've spent the past years running, fighting, and only now, only with each other, have they found a reason to savor a moment within the chaos.

Her hands graze over his waist, her fingers set to removing the only fabric between her and the evidence of his reaction to her. There's a pause in the darkness between them as they silently agree what they both want… the conformation coming from the smallest of gestures, her hand gently wrapping around his length and a shuddered breath escaping him as he wraps his hand around her own. The dimly lit tent provides flashing shadows over her honey colored gaze locked on his and he sets to get lost in her.

As he's kissing her, he thinks she taste of gold.

It's the color of beginnings and innocence; before nature is green, it's gold, but just as nature fades to green, because nothing gold can stay— his insecurities tells him so to will they; because how could he possible deserve this? How could he possible hold something so fleeting? His mother told him once, didn't she?

_Nothing is promised forever, dear. _

His hands grip— at skin, at clothes, at hair— like the spoils of war that he is. He fears of losing her to the monsters he helped snap at her heels. He fears she'll realize her forgiveness of what he truly is could never be given so easily; that she will find reason him worth abandoning the moment her skin leaves his… so he doesn't let it.

But her kisses are bruising, and his intent to remind himself he could never deserve someone so golden, so pure— are removed from his mind completely.

Her skin is completely bare to him now, and his hands demand to learn every inch— and he learns that Hermione Granger's heat tastes of war and the sweetest nectar his lips have ever indulged.

He learns that she grips his hair as tightly as she grips the sheets beneath her as his mouth relishes her slick heat. He learns that his body fits perfect tucked between her thighs as she lays beneath him. He learns that her curls create the perfect halo around her parted lips and closed eyes, which he watches between the rise and fall of her breasts as she arches her back to meet his fingers pulsing inside her, the pressure of his tongue against her bud. He learns that he's never seen anything so glorious as the sight of Hermione Granger coming undone at his touch.

He feels her shaking to the point of ecstasy and for the first time while being with a witch, he thinks that this isn't sex at all, but a confession; his confession of how long he's looked for a place that made him understand what it meant to be apart of something outside of himself, what it meant to belong, what it meant to have a choice and always, always choose her.

For this moment, at least, he allows her to believe them capable to holding on; and he clings to her, with hopes that even after she realizes he has always been destined to crash and burn, that something as precious as this moment might exist amongst their chaos— amongst him rising too close to her, as she had become his golden sun...

…that she may look back on this time, thinking of the monster she so foolishly thought capable of soaring in her light, and remember— as her nails ran blazing trails down his back, his thighs, and chest, and her moans floated over him like prayers, and she reduced him to ashes with her kisses against his shoulder as he buried himself inside her— that he found that there was beauty in setting himself on fire.

* * *

**A/N: **I could have waited to post this with the next chapter, but I have a feeling that one is going to not be ready until next week, and I have to go back to work today (ugghkkk) so I wanted to give this little taste of Draco's POV to get you by in the mean time :) I'd recommend reading this again when I post the next chapter as it will pick up where this one ends exactly...

I started another Dramione fic that's less angst and more light humored... where Harry/Hermione return to Hogwarts to make up for the year they missed.

I would love to hear your thoughts on that one if you find yourself waiting in the meantime for this stories next update. The other fic is called: The 12 Step Program for a Recovering Death Eater.

**A/N (**_pt why does she write so many A/N instead of one_**):** Inspiration pulled from poem: Robert Frost, Nothing Gold can Stay & Emily Palermo, Apollo

**A/N: (**lol stop, just make one A/N woman**):** Also, apologies for freaking anybody out with my last authors note about SHIT ABOUT TO GO DOWN. I only meant that, you know, SHIT IS ABOUT TO GO DOWN, but never fear, I have a feeling you will be happy with where our characters find themselves in the coming chapters, maybe... who knows, *wink wink*, I know, I'm the worst :)


	23. Turning Tides & Ticking Clocks

**_A/N: _**Another short chapter. I apologize. _Review_ and **Enjoy** all the same! [***scenes taken directly from canon, Deathly Hallows ch32 to be specific, if it looks familiar***]

* * *

**_[Chapter Playlist]_**

_King of My Heart : Taylor Swift_

_Gospel Truth : Joseph Jones_

_Eros : Ludovico Einaudi_

_Maybe It Was Me : Sony_

_Brave : Riley Pearce_

* * *

No one ever told Hermione Granger what it would feel like…

No one ever told her that she would feel so completely full that she could burst from happiness.

No one ever told her that the look in his eyes would feel like she was under a blanket of a million stars whose sole purpose was to shine for her.

No one ever told her what she would find in the in-between, the in between of the person she was and the person she would become after: and there, she discovered more about herself in those quiet moments of shared breathes and immeasurable pleasure than she had in the past eighteen years of her life.

She thought she knew herself before, but she was finding it difficult to imagine herself before this moment, before she knew the depths of the person she had just shared herself with so completely.

It wasn't that she wasn't enough before, but that without experiencing this she didn't know herself capable of this form of craving. It was a selfish, desire-fueled longing that felt untamable, like she would stop at nothing—_nothing_— to hold onto it forever.

Her head lay on his chest, her fingers traced the path of his veins from his wrist to his heart, lingering there, causing a smile to tug on her lips. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips, and with every slow proof of life pulsing against her touch she thought of how rare, and how beautiful they were— that if brokenness was considered art, they were a devastating masterpiece; for they had known each other through hatred— through fear— through lust, and somehow found themselves here, in the aftermath of something that felt daringly close to love.

With that terrifying thought she lifted her cheek from his skin… her eyes drifted to his, and she knew he felt it to.

"What are you thinking?" He whispered into the soft lit atmosphere around them, bringing his fingers to her cheek to graze a piece of fallen hair from covering her vision behind her ear— a small smirk tugged on his lips as his eyes devoured her. "If you're concerned whether it was good for me I can confidently say I've never wanted to do anything twice so badly in my life."

She smiled, placing her chin on top of her hand that lay over his chest. "Only twice?"

"I'm going to take that response as you not being upset then?"

"Why would I be upset?"

Draco was silent then. He shrugged, lifting his gaze from her eyes to trail his fingers through her hair. She shifted her body up further so that he had no choice but to look directly at her.

"Draco… It was perfect. I'm not upset." She leaned down to place a quick kiss to his lips and pulled away, "…but I will be very upset if your plan is to only allow this to happen twice, as I was thinking more along the lines of an indefinite arrangement."

"Indefinite you say?"

"If you'll have me?"

He laughed then, shifting her so quickly that she hardly had enough time to register he was lifting her body until she was on her back and he was on top of her, placing quick sloppy kisses all over her face, neck and chest, tickling her sides with his grip, causing her to begin giggling uncontrollably.

"Mind keeping it down over there?" —Hermione felt her entire face warm at Theo's voice, and Draco's wandering kisses stopped abruptly— "Those of us who _didn't_ get laid last night are trying to rest!"

"Uh, Theo you're on my—"

"Shut it Potter."

Stifling her laughter long enough to remember that— _yeah, Harry and Theo were actually just outside the tent the entire time and at some point during the night came in from the freezing cold, and oh my god, how embarrassing_— she shifted from under Draco, and turned on her side to glance behind the sheet of canvas that blocked off their bed from the rest of the large tent.

On the other side of the tent she saw the two bunk beds, the top one empty while the bottom had a similar sheet of canvas thrown over the top. She attempted to hide her grin behind her tooth as she let her own canvas wall fall back and returned to tuck herself beneath Draco.

Draco frowned down at the amused smirk on her face, "What?"

She shook her head, whispering, "Nothing. You were saying…"

"I believe you were saying something along the lines of you wanting me to ravish you with pleasure into eternity…"

She felt her breath catch as his mouth began teasing at the skin beneath her neck, and thoughts of Harry and Theo on the other side of the tent completely vanished. She arched her back as his mouth latched onto her breasts and she let out a soft sigh.

"For Merlins sake— cast a bloody muffling charm you inconsiderate sex-buffoons!"

Draco's calculated kisses turned into breathy laughs against her skin and she couldn't help laugh with him.

"Hey— er— 'Mione— what he means to say is… um, it's kind of hard pretending I don't know what's going on over there if you keep, er— you know— with the sounds— and um— I'd really rather pretend, for my sanity, that I don't know—" There was a ruffling sound and then a muffled voice, that was defiantly Theo's, "Hard, you say Potter?" Another ruffling, a small grunting noise, and another mumbled response, "Theo—mmm, not helping—"

Hermione hurried to reach for her wand and cast a silencing charm. When she turned back to Draco he was glaring at the sheet.

"What?"

"Potter…" Draco said slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he turned to her, "… he's not— he's into— well, he's with the she-weasel, is he not?"

"Oh… well," Hermione's cheeks couldn't burn anymore than they were in that moment, "—it's um, they've been on and off… it's complicated, I think."

"Yes, but he's—" Draco started and then Hermione's face must have given something away because he swallowed, eyes growing a bit wider. "Granger…"

"I think it's sweet." She said eventually, voice suddenly a bit smaller.

Draco just blinked down at her for several moments before a small laugh escaped him, one more of disbelief than humor. "No. No. No. I don't— no."

"Draco…"

"It can't be— Theo's— but— oh no— no… I think I'm going to be sick."

"I'm sure it's difficult realizing your best friend has kept a part of him a secret, but—"

"What?" Draco seemed to blink back from his confused trance to turn to her again. "You think I'm in denial about him being into blokes?" He let out another laugh. "Hermione. Theo's been my best mate since I was eleven. I knew before he did. Who do you think his first crush was?"

"You're joking."

"Unfortunately not."

"So wait— how did you know he had a crush on you?"

"He kissed me."

Hermione couldn't breath she was attempting to not burst out in laugher again. "He kissed you?"

"Yes." He responded simply, "He kissed me. I punched him. Been best mates ever since."

This time laughter shook her entire body, though Draco wasn't joining in this time.

"Boys…" She eventually said after catching her breath. "Honestly— that's… so wait— why do you think you're going to be sick then?"

"Because it's Potter!"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes. It's Potter! It's— It's—"

"It's sweet." Hermione supplied and Draco just groaned, burying his head in the crook of her neck, mumbling something along the lines of— '_it's not bloody sweet, it's abhorrent and if it weren't for your wonderfully naked body beneath me right now I would protest it further you incredibly perfect temptress_'.

"I suppose I should take your renewed vigor as a sign that you're fit enough for apparition?"

"Trying to be rid of me already, Granger?"

She smiled, but the reality that they had to come down from their blissful high was ever present. She pressed a slow kiss to his lips that he happily returned before allowing her to sit up.

"How is your shoulder by the way?"

He rolled it back and forth as he sat up next to her. "If I say it still hurts can we stay in this bed a bit longer?"

Her face turned serious then, she placed her chin on his good shoulder as her fingers danced idly along his arm.

"We'll have this again." She said, more to herself than him, like she needed to confirm it, speak it into fruition. She felt his finger beneath her chin, her gaze finding a stormy grey invading her, pleading…

"Promise?"

"Promise."

As they both dressed, Hermione was reminded of the guilt weighing heavily inside her before they got lost in one another. She turned to look at Draco who was lacing up his boots with his wand, perched on the edge of the bed. She watched him button the top of his grey shirt and tuck it into his black trousers. She felt the ease and comfort radiating off of him… it was a stark contrast to what was raging inside of her. Sensing her eyes on him he glanced up to where she was standing before him.

"What is it?"

She glanced down at her bag, fidgeting with the attached strings and then placed it on the side table.

"Hermione…"

"I need to tell you something… something I should have told you the moment I knew, but with everything that's been going on I just wasn't sure how but now—"

"Hermione…" He pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her, making the tightness in her chest deepen with how easily he handled her— like they both knew she wasn't the fragile one— that if either of them were going to shatter it would be him, which only made what she was about to say a thousand times more difficult to confess—

"Just say it."

"It's… It's about your mother."

"My mother?" She could feel his arms release her slightly as his brow pulled together.

"When she came to the safe house that night… she told me something— something about your magic and why you may be having difficulties Occluding. I didn't know what to make of the information at the time, because, well, you and I— we were, or weren't rather— but that doesn't matter— I should have told you sooner, and Draco, I'm— I'm so sorry I—"

"Wait—Hermione. Slow down—" He shifted back, and Hermione took that as her que to move from his lap, but he didn't let her, instead he only gripped his hands her tighter on her waist. "What did my mother tell you?"

Hermione explained herself quickly— saying the words aloud only made the guilt grow heavier instead of weightless as she once hoped they would—

"That it was because of me that you were having difficulties Occluding— or rather it was your magic's reaction to the way you feel about me. She said something about magic coming from the heart, not the mind, and your magic was destroying whatever was in it's way for you to accept how you feel, I think— which is the labyrinth you created to protect yourself all this time…" She took in a deep breath, placing her hands over his chest, "I didn't tell you sooner because— because… Draco, I didn't want to be the reason you couldn't protect yourself— I couldn't take knowing—"

She stopped talking suddenly when she saw a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"You're— You're not mad?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm not mad… I'm also not surprised my mother knew before I did…"

"I-I don't understand—"

"I think I've known for awhile now… that my mind was failing where it rarely did before you," he placed his hand over hers, "—but I already told you Hermione. I don't care— not if it means I can have you like this—"

"You should care—" She said back impatiently, "—it's because of me that everything you've done to protect yourself is crumbling—"

"It's also _because of you_ that I know there are far greater things to want to protect than just myself." Draco smiled up at her and she found she couldn't think properly. This was not how she expected him to react. "The memory you saw back at Gringotts… the one in the bookshop. You remember it, don't you?"

Hermione nodded, her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she waited for him to piece together what he was attempting to tell her.

The moment Hermione looked up at him after they made love earlier Draco felt something click inside his mind— something he had stopped denying, he wasn't sure when he stopped exactly, but he had stopped denying it— the tangible difference within his mind. He's felt his magic shifting inside him ever since he stepped into the small pool of crimson surrounding Hermione's unconscious body on his drawing room floor. He had come up with a handful of theories for why his labyrinth started to deteriorate that didn't involve the perfect witch curled in his arms, but he wasn't naive. He knew. Instinctively, he felt himself trying to reach for a vine within his labyrinth, for something, but stopped himself… instead, he only tucked her small frame closer to his chest, burying his nose into her curls.

"That was the memory that trigged it I think… during one of my Occlumency lessons with Snape he dug up that memory… I hadn't even known I buried it, but after I saved you— he found that memory and watching it again, knowing what I do now…

"…it was like it placed a crack in my mind where I kept every repressed emotion I've ever had, and the more time I spent thinking about you the crack just kept growing and there was nothing I could do to stop it— I didn't want to…" He paused for a moment, his voice growing softer as he dropped his gaze to her hands resting on his chest, placing a soft kiss on them and keeping his lips there as he continued, "I think that memory represented something more for me, you know? Like maybe I wasn't supposed to be the boy who bullied you— like maybe I could have been someone else to you— something better… If I had just allowed myself to listen to my heart instead of my father—"

Hermione swallowed the growing lump in her throat.

"Draco…"

He pulled back to look at her. "So please don't feel guilty for giving me a chance to be something better for you— I never deserved it, but now that I know what it feels like— to be something better..." He shook his head and smiled at her, a smile that tore at the seams of her lightly stitched heart. "Just don't feel guilty, okay?"

She wanted what he was saying to be enough. She did, but she knew it wasn't that simple. At the mention of his father she was reminded of that…

"Draco… there's something else." She reached for her bag. "Something else I should have told you about the night your mother visited me…"

He stared down at the string laying in Hermione's hand as she studied his expression turning from confusion to something similar to what Hermione imagined was unabridged fear.

"W-Where did you—" He swallowed, reaching for the ring attached to the vial and string. "This is my mother's ring. She— She gave this to you? Why?"

Hermione shifted from his lap then. This time he didn't stop her. She moved to kneel before him, pleading with her heart to stop hammering so desperately inside her chest.

"Hermione… why didn't you tell me she gave you this?"

"I'm sorry…" She chocked out. "I wanted to—"

"But you didn't."

The tender stitchings around her heart ripped then. She could feel each one unlacing with every second that passed.

"What else did she say?"

"That vial… it contains a memory— a memory she asked that I not view until the war is over… with you."

"And the ring?"

Hermione dropped her gaze then, knowing that Draco could sense whatever she was about to say would shatter him. She inhaled a shaky breath before lifting her gaze, panic was easily recognized beyond his usual expression of calm by the subtle movements of his eyes darting across her face.

_—there is no certainty with accepting this ring, I only ask that you consider keeping it safe for me until you do decide—_

Hermione suddenly felt sick with the burden his mother had placed upon her shoulders.

Not only was she responsible for sorting out her own feelings towards Draco (which, yes, obviously they had developed since then)— not only was she responsible for the ramifications of what his feelings meant for his safety (which, yes, he insisted he was more than alright with)— but she was also now responsible for telling Draco that his mother was planning for the possibility to never see him again.

It was suffocating her and she wanted to release it, she _needed _ to— but as she looked at the boy before her, it made it impossible for her to give into the selfish desire to just blurt it out. She hated knowing her honesty was only going to put him through more heartache.

"She asked me to keep it safe."

He frowned further, hesitantly meeting her stare. He swallowed, his eyes began to glaze over and Hermione recognized it— she did, but it was different this time. Where she could normally see the clouded fog darkening behind his gaze, blocking him from the scattered emotions attempting to control him, she now saw nothing but an utter rawness that embodied the exact shade of crippling fear. He couldn't hide from it this time and she wondered if he was regretting what he said moments ago, about him being alright with not being able to shield himself as he once could.

"What aren't you saying Hermione? What do you know?"

Hermione reached up to place one hand on his cheek, her own now accompanied by a single tear. He didn't move. She didn't even really think he was looking at her anymore, though his eyes remained on hers. Before she could tell him what she imagined Narcissa meant in giving her these items he was already moving to his feet. Hermione remained on her knees, attempting to rationalize a reason for him to remain sitting, but she found none.

"I just…" He started. Hermione stood then, intending to reach out to him, but he lifted his hands in front of him, closing his eyes. "I just— I need a moment."

Hermione watched as he stepped backwards and shoved the canvas wall away, disappearing on the other side. She followed after him, but he was already exiting the tent. She inhaled a shaky breath, wrapping her arms around her torso.

"What was that about?" Theo asked shoving away from the table he was sitting at with Harry.

"'Mione— are you alright?" Harry asked just as quickly moving to her side.

"I, um— I'm not— I don't know."

"Should we go after him?" Harry was asking Theo then.

"He said he just needed a moment, but I…" She trailed off and felt Harry's arm wrap around her shoulders.

"Why don't you and Theo start packing up…" Harry said then. "I'll go check on him."

Theo stepped in front of Harry, lifting a brow, "You sure that's the best idea? I know Draco, if he storms out like that it's usually best just to—"

"Just help Hermione get everything ready to leave. I'll be right back with Malfoy."

Theo nodded, taking a step out of Harry's way. "If you say so."

Theo turned to see Hermione already distracting herself with packing everything away magically and sighed, joining her in the thick silence that followed Harry going after Draco.

* * *

***Shrieking Shack**

The room was desolate, with peeling paper on the walls and tall the windows boarded up expect for one. He was rolling his wand between his fingers, watching it, his thoughts on the room in the castle, the secret room only he had ever found, the room, like a chamber, that you had to be clever and cunning and inquisitive to discover… He was confident that the boy would not find the diadem… although Dumbledore's puppet had come much farther than he ever expected… and with Draco Malfoy helping him… well, he thought perhaps the boy had come too far…

"My Lord," said a voice, desperate and cracked. He turned: there was Lucius Malfoy standing in the darkest corner, ragged and still bearing marks of the punishment he had received, along with his sister-in-law, after the prisoners escape. One of Lucius eyes remain closed and puffy.

"My Lord… please… my son…"

"Your son is as good as dead and when the time comes to fight and I find that he is not in fact dead, his betrayal in befriending Harry Potter will be his own undoing. You and your wife are lucky I do not murder you for your incompetence once again, but I still have use for Malfoy blood yet…"

"Draco would never betray you My Lord…" Bellatrix breathed heavy, coming to kneel before Voldemort. "He is a foolish boy who should be punished, but perhaps we could use his connections to the Potter boy— perhaps he will bring him to us—"

"Enough!" Voldemort hissed, turning to Lucius. "I have no need to seek the boy… soon enough he will come to me." Voldemort's gaze filtered down to the wand within his grasp, flickering to Nagini momentarily before settling on Lucius once more. It troubled him. This wand. And things that troubled Voldemort needed to be rearranged… "Go and fetch Snape."

"Snape, m-my Lord?"

"Snape! Now. I need him. There is a— service— I require from him. Go."

Frightened, stumbling a little through the room, the two followers feed with vigor.

"It's the only way, Nagini," he whispered, and he looked around, and there was the great thick snake, now suspended in midair, twisting gracefully within the enchanted, protected space he made for her, a starry, transparent sphere somewhere between a glittering cage and a tank.

Severus Snape found himself returning to very place he detested most, as it reminded him of the very person who he felt indebted to, despite his reoccurring success of protecting his son's life, this place would always remind him that James Potter had saved him from the rate of being ripped apart by Remus Lupin on the night of that frightful full moon all those years ago.

His attention was aburptly turned to the Dark Lord, his back was to Snape as he ascended the stairs. He was standing at the lone unbounded window, moonlight shuffling through… Snape's gaze landed on the wand in his hands, and he straightened his composure, preparing for what was to come…

"…my Lord, the time is coming. Everything is in place at the castle. What other service may I be of you?"

Voldemort turned, and it was then that the bright sphere appeared to Snape, his gaze focused on the bright globe hovering in the air, the large thick snake circling within the protection of the sphere. He showed vague interest, but never fear; not even as the red eyes, the flattened, serpentine face, and the pallor of him gleamed slightly in the semidarkness of the shack.

"I have a problem, Severus," said Voldemort softly, raising the wand in his grasp."Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?"

Snape knew the question wasn't a question at all. Voldemort believed he knew. Snape was prepared to die knowing what he did not.

"My Lord." Said Snape blankly. "I do not understand. You have preformed extraordinary magic with that wand."

"No." Voldemort shot back, stepping closer to him. "I have preferred my usual magic. _I am extraordinary_, but this wand… no. It's wonders have not been revealed to me… No difference between this one and the last…"

"If it is the boy you seek, I can surely bring him to you… now that we know he is with Draco—"

"You sound like Lucius." Voldemort chuckled, turning to face the glowing sphere, Nagini hissing adoringly back at him. "Neither of you understand Potter as I do. I know his weakness. I will reveal it in time, that his greatest flaw has always been watching others die, knowing that it is for him that it happens. He will want to stop it at any cost. He will come to me then. But only then…"

"My Lord—"

"My instructions have been perfectly clear. We wait until Greyback strikes. Kill Potter's friends— the more, the better— Then the boy will come."

There was a stretch of silence then and Snape strengthened his minds shields to cover the inner parts of him that he needed hidden most— parts of him that conveyed: _a woman with red hair laying dead in his arms, Dumbledore's intstructions over the wand, a young boy with pale blonde hair— _

"But it is you that I wished to speak, Severus, not Harry Potter. You have been very valuable. My concern is not to find the boy, but what shall happen once I do—"

"My Lord— there can be no question of your power over the boy, surely—"

"—but there is a question, Severus. There is."

Voldemort halted, lifting the wand and pointing at Nagini, staring at Snape all the while.

"You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen…"

"My Lord—"

"The Elder Wand cannot serve me properly, Severus, because I am not its true master. The Elder Wand belongs to the wizard who killed its last owner. You killed Albus Dumbledore. While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine."

Voldemort swiped the air with the Elder Wand. It did nothing to Snape, who for a moment foolishly believed he would find mercy at the hand of the dark wizard before him, but alas it was not to last…

"Nagini…"

* * *

The feeling of betrayal, once realized, settles deep into your bones until the ache of it is all you can feel, and with every quick step forward Draco feels the ache of it claiming him; but he also knows the initial shock of betrayal— the shock that it was Hermione who kept this information about his mother from him— subsided as quickly as it formed, because he should have known— he should have realized it sooner—

He remembered the look on his mother's face after his interrogation with the Dark Lord before he was sent to recruit the centaurs. He left so abruptly, even after sensing that she was trying to hold onto him a moment longer. Was she trying to tell him goodbye?

That thought choked him. He couldn't breath. His footsteps became heavier the further away he got from the tent.

Without the structure of his labyrinth the memories were more difficult to recall, but he could feel them burning inside him all the same—

_Mink… My mother… was she with him?_

Minks hesitant answer_, No. Misses is not happy with the Other Master and Misses is forbidding Mink from tending to the Misses…_

The words lashing against his skull. Again_, Misses is forbidding Mink from tending to the Misses…_

The curse.

_Mother— Is she? — _

His fathers desperation ebbing into his lifeless eyes and timid voice_, _as he held the twin dagger_, She's alive… For now… and I intend to keep her that way. It's why I'm here. Dolohov and Nott Sr. have bargained to assist me— for a cost of course, but one I will surely pay for in due time._

Had his father found a way to cure her?

_And the ring? _

Hermione telling him what he should have already pieced together, _She asked me to keep it safe—_

_She asked me to keep it safe— _

_In case she— _

_As if she were preparing to—_

Draco felt the cool dirt digging in to his knees as his' legs caved under the weight of the truth, the truth of who the betrayal really came from—

"Malfoy."

Draco didn't care that Harry Potter was standing behind him. He didn't care that he was shaking, doubled over with one hand gripped onto a tree for support while the other clung over his chest, attempting to catch his fucking breath, attempting to not crumble under the guilt that he hadn't realized it before this moment—

"Malfoy?"

Potter was kneeling next to him then.

_As if she were preparing— _

"Malfoy…"

He turned to look at him then, the last person he wanted to see at that moment. He wanted to punch him, but found he couldn't move.

"My mother intends to die. She's known she wouldn't survive the end of this and she still— she let me think I could still save her..." Draco wasn't sure what made him confess this to Harry Potter of all people, but he said it all the same.

"Maybe—" Harry started, clearing his throat as he met Draco's heavy gaze, "—maybe because in doing so she believes she'll be saving you… and if it means her life or yours, she knows it's not really a choice."

Draco could sense the far away tone in Harry's voice as he spoke, as if he weren't saying it to him at all.

"I can still protect her. I can still keep her alive."

"Maybe so… but if she's kept it from you, her knowing her fate that is, it was probably only to protect you from the pain you're feeling right now."

Draco just stared at him for a moment, unsure if he wanted to still punch him or just turn away; instead he just nodded, unable to truly consider much of anything, least of all— a philosophical Potter.

"What makes you think she knows?"

"She's always known more than a person should. She can sense things happening before they do. And she gave Hermione something— something she would never part with unless— unless she was preparing to die."

Harry nodded. He remained silent and Draco was grateful for it, but it only stretched for a few minutes before Harry spoke again.

"Is that how she helped you get into the vault? Because she knew you'd need to break into it?"

Draco nodded.

"So she must have known you were helping me then?"

Draco shrugged, uncertain what he was getting at. "Yeah— I suppose so. Maybe…"

"Hmmm…"

"Out with it Potter."

"Well, it's just interesting is all… that she would want you to."

"Why because my entire family hates you?"

"Well, yeah…" Harry said simply, but then added, "…but something must have made her accept it— you helping me, that is."

Draco frowned as he considered Potter's perspective. Potter was right— _ughh, that felt like torture admitting even inwardly_— but he did have a point…

"If she can really sense what will happen before they do then maybe she knew…"

"Stop talking." Draco said suddenly, springing to his feet.

"Malfoy, I'm just trying to help—"

"No. I know— but just— stop talking for a second." Draco began pacing, his thoughts unraveling with an overwhelming urgency.

If his mother knew to help him at Gringott's then she must have foreseen something happening that she felt Draco needed to do— she had been overly supportive in her own way (read: minding her own business) in regards to Draco's choices as of late… She knew about Hermione. She knew about helping Potter hunt Horcruxes. So she must have foreseen much more—

"The prophecy!" Draco said, stopping just before Harry, and then immediately headed towards the tent.

"Never liked those much." Harry mumbled at Draco's retreating back, though he was certain he had no clue what he was talking about.

When Draco burst through the tent both Theo and Hermione stood to their feet, glancing over him worriedly.

"What'd you do to him?" Theo asked Harry as they both strode deeper into the tent. "He's all emotional and fidgety— it's frightening."

"Dunno—" Harry answered as he watched Draco hurry towards Hermione. "Something to do with his mum and a prophecy?"

"Draco— what's going on?" She asked as he frantically placed his hands on either side of her shoulders.

"My mother knew I would save you. She knew because she can speak to the heavens— or whatever—"

"I'm not following." Theo mumbled behind him.

"Same." Harry agreed.

Draco turned to face all of them.

"The fucking prophecy— she told the centaurs it shifted, and the centaurs told me—" Draco pointed to himself, "—the Dragon— was the reason it did!"

The three of them shared looks of bemusement and Draco let out a loud groan. Thinking of the best way to explain it to them and then settled his sights on Hermione.

"Hermione— you've got my journals don't you?"

She nodded as she summoned her bag and handed him his journal and a quill. Draco immediately moved to the table and started sketching out his thoughts. He found it impossible to do without Occlumency and sketching it out had always helped him make sense of things before, so…

"This looks like it may take a while—" Theo muttered.

Hermione ignored him and moved to stand behind Draco, watching his hand move across the page with a burst of urgency. After several moments he stood, handing it to her and nodding at Theo and Harry.

"Go on— touch it."

Theo smirked. Hermione smaked him before he could comment on the innuendo.

"What are we doing exactly?" Harry asked hesitantly but complied as he saw Hermione already gripping the journal waiting on him expectantly.

"Are you sure you'll be able to preform the spell now that you can't access your labyrinth?" Hermione asked Draco then.

"Positive. Two different forms of magic. One shields memories while the other releases them." He confirmed and then took a step back and mumbled, "Well… fairly positive."

"That's comforting…" Theo mumbled, but placed his hand on the journal all the same.

"It's going to be unsettling at first, but just know your skin isn't actually being splinched from your bones— it only feels like it is."

"I was wrong before—" Theo added, "—that was definitely more comforting."

Harry sighed. "If this will make Malfoy stop panting like a maniac then let's get this over with…"

"Ready?" Draco asked Hermione.

She nodded. "Ready."

* * *

Remus Lupin had long sense accepted his fate of dying for this cause, but as he thought of his wife and son his will to survive was more apart than ever. He had never imagined himself worthy of having a family, and the memories that reminded him the closest he came to a family were all haunted with grief and loss. Thoughts of Sirius, James, and Lily often reminded him why he was fighting, not that he needed a reminder, his very existence was enough to make him believe it so. Being a werewolf had never been viewed to him as anything more than a disease, a curse placed upon him to ensure those he loved would never live a full life as long as they kept him among them... slowly that belief had morphed into something different, not entirely acceptance for what he was... he feared that would never come... but he had been given purpose within his disease. The truth that he happened to find Tonks and create their beautiful son was more than he would have ever asked the Fates for... often times he wondered if he truly deserved it.

His purpose was renewed the moment Dumbledore tasked him once with being a spy in the Werewolf community, which was quite literally 'underground'... There he was able to claim his understanding around his disease and help others adjust to it. His hopes to shift the newly turned Werewolves allegiance to support the Order fell short on almost every occurrence. Most were either too loyal to Voldemort or too terrified of Greyback's wrath if they were found out.

And it was, perhaps, this truth and the disappointment for feeling as if he failed Dumbledore for not recruiting any werewolves that caused him to feel an overwhelming renewed sense of purpose at the sight before him... The memories he collected from spending so much time underground, amongst other tattered souls at the mercy of such a vicious disease had taught him more about himself than it ever allowed him to help others... but the sight before him was enough to make him think it was all worth it. He had never been more grateful for that experience than he was as he stood in the vast damp field starring out over the small group of terrified looking youth.

There were at least a dozen of them...

"So what do you think?" Daphne Greengrass was attempting to catch her breath as she crossed her arms and stood next to him. They both glanced out over the new recruits, all in equal fits of catching their breath, but some with playful grins on their face after their training.

Remus felt a smile growing over his features as he turned to the young girl, he caught the eye of Ginny Weasley smiling at him beside her.

"I think we've got ourselves a very capable group of werewolves thanks to you and Miss Parkinson. Well done..." His eyes scanned the field once more, nodding more to himself as he added. "...very well done..."

* * *

**A/N**: DUH DUH DUHHHHHHH... lemme know-lemme know people, your thoughts... I would love to hear them :)


	24. Verging & Vengeance

**A/N: **We are steadily approaching the end! I'd image around 6-8 more chapters left! I hope you're as exited as I am! This chapter serves as bit of a filler/set up for what's to come. As always, Enjoy & Review :)

* * *

**Chapter Playlist:**

_Intro : The xx_

_Witches : Daughter_

_Day One : Hans Zimmer_

_TOO GOOD : Troye Sivan_

_Secret : The Gardener & The Tree_

_No One's Controlling Me : Ramin Djawadi_

* * *

_THE PREVIOUS NIGHT..._

**Hogwarts**

Minerva McGonagall had never heard the castle so eerily quiet.

She was a very perceptive witch, brilliantly perceptive, almost to a fault, as it often led her to know when students were misbehaving, planning to misbehave, and know things a professor really shouldn't know about her students personal lives— though for as perceptive as she could be, she wasn't certain how to describe the vague awareness she felt at that moment.

It was unsettling, though that wasn't new, in fact, _unsettling _had become her new normal, as the Carrows stalked aimlessly around the castle most nights, itching for a reason to bring harm to students caught out of bed; which was her reason for gliding through the dimly lit castle this particular night… but there was some unknown variance in this particular, perceptive feeling she was having… something entirely undiscovered, but glaring her in the face. Often times she felt a feeling similar to this while in cat form, though this was hardly the same as an overly heightened sense of smell—

Just as she thought this, a hooded figure stepped out from behind a suit of armor.

"It is I," said a low voice.

McGonagall, equally and diligently prepared as she was perceptive, already had her wand in hand.

Disgust boiled up inside her at the sight of the wizard striding from the shadows.

Though she had remained at the castle for reasons that were obvious, the regards to the children's safety, she hadn't lost her sense of hatred towards the cowardly man standing before her. He was not wearing nightclothes, but was pressed in his usual black cloak, and he too was holding his wand prepared for a fight.

"Where are the Carrows?" He asked quietly.

"Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Severus." She responded blandly.

Snape stepped nearer, and his eyes fitted over Professor McGonagall, into the air around her, as if he was determining whether what he needed of her was important enough to discuss at such a late hour, and as he took another slow step forward she thought he had determined it to be so.

"My presence is needed outside the castle walls, but before I go, I had hoped to share a word with you."

McGonagall paused, considering him as he seemed to be of her, the perceptive feeling, the odd feeling that she could not place, began to rise from a simmer into something far more forceful, far more dangerous. She thought perhaps it was her instincts telling her to not trust the wizard before her, but she was intrigued all the same.

"Though— it was a surprise to find you roaming the corridors, Minerva. I hadn't thought it your night for patrol."

"You have some objection?"

"I wonder what could have brought you out of your bed at this late hour?"

"I thought I heard a disturbance," she answered swiftly, her chin high, her grip tightly wound around her wand.

"Really?" Snape glanced around the empty hall, the entirely too quiet empty hall. "But all seems calm."

"What is it you needed to discuss with me Severus? I'd assume you do not wish to keep your master waiting… that is why you are needed elsewhere, is it not?"

Snape hardly seemed bothered by her accusation, nor the venom laced within her tone.

"If you still believe Dumbledore's trust in me was so misplaced then why have you not avenged him yourself?" Snape asked with a bored expression, taking another step forward as McGonagall took one back. "It is on Dumbledore's orders that I come to you now."

This caused her to falter in her slow retreat, her chest tightened.

"How dare you? How dare you use his name against me for your trickery— for your lunacy to believe yourself worthy of his trust—"

"It is on Dumbledore's orders that I come to you now." He repeated with a bit more sternness, though his voice was low. McGonagall thought she heard him place a muffling charm around them moments ago as well. "I have little time to discuss with you the importance of this matter, so listen clearly and quickly. You do not have to trust me, but trust that there was a reason it was _I_ who saw Albus to his end, and not anyone else—"

"Why should I believe anything of the sort?"

"Because it is with great urgency that you must prepare the castle… it's protection, as well as the students within it, fall onto you. That was his wish, his last desire of me, to ensure the students safety when the time came, with your… assistance."

McGonagall wanted to scoff. She wanted to slap the man before her for claiming to have done anything but sit by, claiming Dumbledore's place, and watch as the Carrows disciplined the students with absurd measures; but she faltered slightly… she was perceptive after all, and her gut feeling, that new, strange, tingling of her magic, was informing her to pay closer attention to what he was saying— or rather what he was not saying…

"And what 'time' is to be coming? What am I protecting the castle from?"

This was the first time Snape's gaze upon her shifted… he now peered out the window to their right…

"I will not be returning to Hogwarts after tonight."

He spoke slowly, his head turned eventually to look upon her, and McGonagall was certain she had never sensed the type of desperation in his black stare, though it was hardly visibly, and had she not been working with the wizard so closely over the years she was certain she wouldn't have noticed it at all.

"Potter will need a headstart. When he arrives you must begin shielding the castle… hold your ground as long as you can."

"Potter? Harry Potter?" She could hardly manage to conceal her concern or confusion, but then Snape was glancing down at his arm… his arm where she imagined a dark skull and a snake coiled within it to be laced over his pale skin.

She stood up straighter then. She understood what he wasn't saying. They were to prepare for battle. McGonagall found she was far more prepared for this moment than she thought strictly acceptable. Gryffindor, she may be, but vengeance laid heavily within her, she tasted the bitterness of it on her lips… justice was certainly owed and she intended to present it with every last ounce of blood flowing within her veins.

She did not think of his meaning behind him not being in attendance. She thought she knew, but it did not concern her in the slightest as much as the present state of concern inside her at the thought of Harry Potter returning to the castle.

"You can go." She said curtly. "I assure you, I will do everything, as I always have, to ensure the safety of the students."

Snape nodded once, turning on his heel quickly, hardly pausing before disappearing from the hall.

McGonagall straightened her shoulders. Her gaze filtered from his retreating form to the vast collection of large, sturdy suits of armor lining the castle walls. Her heart swelling with courage though it was pounding far quicker than it ever had before.

"It appears I will finally be requiring your assistance…"

* * *

Harry understood the unsettling feeling Hermione was referring to the moment Draco began mumbling the incantation with his wand pointed at the journal held firmly in their grasps. His skin felt as if it were being stretched thin from it's bones slowly, though it wasn't as painful as it was uncomfortable, like the way his arm felt after Lockhart's not-so-brilliant spell work of riding him of his bones, leaving his flesh feeling like limp, rubbery flesh— it was much like that, except now someone was gripping at the flesh and stretching it in all directions… so a very unpleasant feeling to say the least.

The journal began to tremble in their grasp, a bright light appeared on the outlining of the images— images Harry found surprisingly impressive to have been created by Draco in mere minutes— but as the pages begun to shine brighter and the thin fabric veil of reality lifted, placing his mind within the bright pages, he was reminded of his previous experience with a journal laced with dark magic... had he not been so thoroughly uncomfortable with the process, as well as seeming to not have control on remaining in reality, he may have protested, but those thoughts were immediately discarded as the tearing sensation along his skin began to settle.

Reality continued to morph until a mirage of images appeared before him, Hermione, and Theo.

Viewing the memory through Draco's journal, Harry noted, was unlike any other magic he experienced in regards to viewing the mind— where legilimency and viewing ones memories through a pensive felt light, almost as if you are floating through the memory led by its holder, this type of magic felt draining on his own magic, as if Draco needed to connect to his own magical core to each of them to pull enough strength to convey the images from the journal.

The three of them stood on the very hill Harry knew to be where Dumbledore's tomb sat… he had seen this memory before, through Voldemorts perspective, except this time something strange happened that had not happened before— there was a tendril of light magic curling from the Elder Wand, it slithered from the tip, stretching across the openness until it began wrapping itself around Draco's forearm, the other figures standing nearby hardly seemed to notice it's happening, least of all Voldemort.

The stretching of his skin ensued once more and they were being torn from the hill side and into another memory.

They each turned to their left and recognized Draco's incorporeal form immediately as he walked with an urgency through the corridors of Hogwarts towards the Headmasters office. This memory seemed to move in fast forward as the light magic buzzed in front of Draco until he was standing before Dumbledore's old cabinet. The same cabinet Harry knew to hold the pensive…

Draco reached for something within and in his grasp he held a small latched box.

Before Harry could make sense of these two occurrences they were drifting into another memory, the light magic and box all but forgotten as the shock of what came next startled them far more than the previous memories.

They were standing within the Forbidden Forest as several large beasts began galloping towards them. Harry felt a cold shiver flow through him as Theo and Hermione both glanced at him, and just as quickly the incorporeal form of Draco stepped through his body and bowed to the leader of the centaurs, it's voice booming out over the rest…

_What has been foretold in the stars have shifted— We know it to be in response to the Dragon, the guarder of the Gardens, and he has come to us. We have sworn to not set ourselves against the heavens and by turning our back on the Dragon we would be doing so!_

Harry heard Draco ask about his mother and the second in command of the centaurs stepped forward, a broad grin on its human face alight with admiration for the mention of his mother.

_Yes, You're mother visits when the heavens speak. They speak to her often. _

At the mention of a prophecy Harry notices Hermione step forward, inching closer to Draco, her face filled with concern.

**_Fairness so bright, paler than light, seeking refuge, but lacking sight— in a crimson pool he will stand, protecting a life near its end— the answer seen in her reflection, to reveal an allegiance of Power need be shifted…_**

The centaur turned its bright, adorning stare down on Draco, the odd appearance of the centaurs being so cordial to a human did not go unnoticed by the three viewing the memory.

_… the cause of the shifting stars… the Dragon…_

Just as those words settled into Harry's skull he felt himself being torn away from the forest and tossed into the familiar setting they were just in moments ago, the Headmasters office, though now Snape was turning on his heel, a cloud of dust dancing wildly at his feet, as Draco's incorporeal form staggered backwards, his face drained of all color.

Harry glanced at Hermione, sharing a brief look of concern before turning their sights back on Draco appearing to try and catch his breath, knowing that whatever conversation Draco had just had prior to this part of the memory looked as though it had shattered him into a half-version of himself as he rushed towards the Floo before the sound of Snape's voice caused him to pause in his rush to leave.

_Draco… The prophecy… see to it that Miss Granger remedy the last of it for you, hm?_

This time, as the memory attempted to shift into another, something different happened— his vision went blurry and he felt his skin being stretching in a million different directions until it stopped abruptly.

It was then that Harry felt his scar pulsing to life. The pain radiating from his scar burned deeper and he lifted his hand to cover it, wincing as it only continued to grow more intense. His other hand refused to lift from the journal…

"It's him!" Harry rasped out, trying to meet Hermione's worried stare, but then she was gone and he was filled with the cold trembling fear that came when his connection to Voldemort flared to life— and there: he saw nothing but red.

* * *

Like a flash of lightening or the beginnings of a killing curse, Hermione felt the jarring sensation of her magical core being torn and shifted from her body as if it were becoming tangled amongst Harry's, Theo's, and Draco's all at once. The journal in their grasp begin to violently vibrate as their magic continued to swirl in the air around them until she no longer saw the images of Draco's memories or the four of them standing in the tent at all— Like a rubber band snapping back into place, her skin tightened as her vision began to focus into the frightening image of an entire room of scattered bodies, Goblins bodies, as Voldemort waded through them with Nagini slithering by his side, her long coiled body roaming over the lifeless forms like a boat on shifting waters…

She was vaguely aware that they were no longer viewing Draco's memories, but Voldemorts— the realization caused her throat to go dry as she struggled to catch her breath. She heard Harry wincing in pain next to her though she was powerless to do more than stare in shocked horror at the scene revealing itself to them. A small part of her rational mind knew that they were somehow viewing what Harry was viewing through his connection to Voldemort— that somehow the dark magic of the journal triggered something in Harry's mind, allowing it to be so— there was hardly more than a brief moment to consider such things before Voldemort was hissing something to Nagini, walking briskly past Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, who were frozen in place, avoiding the sight before them… the bodies, the goblins… and it was then that Hermione realized that Voldemort knew… he knew they were hunting Horcruxes. Their one advantage had been lost and time, though it had never been, was hardly on their side…

Then she felt it… similar to when she had viewed Draco's memories back at Gringott's, the emotions radiating from Voldemort coiled around them, settling against there souls, though it felt tainted with so much darkness, Hermione could hardly bare it; it consumed her and she knew the others could feel it too— His anger was their anger, and the fury swelled inside them as another bright flash appeared, and the emotions were only heightened…

Another trace of Voldemort's memories began to reveal itself… he was standing in a dimly lit room with boarded up windows, save for one, but Hermione could hardly notice much of anything else as her eyes settled on a strange sphere hovering in the air, Nagini tucked inside. The emotions inside Voldemort had shifted from anger to simmering rage, and he felt more dangerous, more frightening, though Hermione wasn't sure how that could ever be possible. Slowly, a cloaked form appeared from the shadows behind Voldemort… Her heart dropped in her chest.

_Snape_.

_'While you live, Severus, the Elder Wand cannot truly be mine.'_

Hermione wanted to shut her eyes. She wanted to fall to her knees and never open them again as Voldemort lifted his wand and the large snake hovered before Snape.

There was a terrible scream.

She saw Snape's face losing the little color it had left; it whitened as his black eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced his neck, then his knees gave and he fell to the floor. She heard Voldemorts hissing whisper once more, admitting, '_I regret it_', though as Hermione took in the serpentine features and red eyes of the monster watching his pet, she saw no sadness in him, no remorse.

Blood pumped wildly within her veins, so forceful with it's apparent need to alert her of her racing heart that other thoughts did not come to her… only a numbing shock and she hardly noticed another flash as the memories shifted, that was, until her eyes landed on Narcissa Malfoy once more. She was seated at a large table within Malfoy Manor. The entire room was filled with Death Eaters… she must have had some ability to think because Hermione failed to not notice Lucius Malfoy was not present.

Voldemort was standing amongst them at the head of the table. His voice now lifted into a terribly unsettling octave that caused Hermione's skin to crawl…

'One amongst my followers have thought themselves beyond my reach… they belive that perhaps they are capable of my undoing… there is no place for vengeful traitors within my ranks, and perhaps I will remember this when recruiting barbaric beasts in the future… nevertheless, this shall be resolved come tomorrow night… The time has come for battle… the final battle… and I urge you all to prepare yourselves. Tonight, I command each of you to gather every follower… and tomorrow… as nightfalls and the full moon is lifted, the Boy Who Lived will fall… and our New World Order… will begin…'

* * *

"He knows! He knows were hunting horcruxes!"

Harry was speaking.

Draco knew he was, but he didn't register much of anything expect—

_Snape._

_Snape is dead._

_No! No! He couldn't be—_

The inner workings of Draco's mind suddenly became that of a landmine— as every new thought surfaced he was alerted of another, and another, and another, all exploding into dreaded bits rising and falling onto the surface, only to activate the onslaught of other thoughts… thoughts that deepened the grief threatening to turn him mad.

He was certain Hermione was speaking to him, or maybe she was talking to Harry as Theo began muttering nonsense along the lines of:

_ 'Is somebody going to explain to me what in the bloody-insanity-fuck just happened? and 'Why does my mind feel like it was just molested by the Dark Lord?' _

— but the only thing Draco could concentrate on was his legs bending as he steadied himself enough the sit at the table behind him.

What had begun as him presenting his own memories to them had quickly shifted into something else, something darker, and he was drowning in all that was revealed to him.

His mothers pale face, her cold stare, her fingers laced tightly with his fathers as they stood in the aftermath of Voldemort's fury— and even though it confirmed that she was still alive, he could hardly find comfort in the thought as the next image demanded his entire attention.

_Snape._

_Snape is dead. _

Draco wasn't prepared for how this news was effecting him. Did he truly care for the man? Did it matter now? Certainly not. But he did. And he was dead.

_Voldemort killed him. Why would he kill him? _

The others had been speaking hurriedly before him, explaining something about Harry's connection to Voldemort's mind, which Draco had pieced together much quicker than Theo who was gaping at Harry like he couldn't believe he was real—

He should have been more surprised. He should have questioned it, but very little shocked him anymore, except—

_Voldemort killed Snape. Why would he kill him? _

"Draco?"

He felt Hermione's hand on his forearm. The contact felt jarring, like he was finally settling back into his own body… the landmine of thoughts no longer bursting in all directions.

"He killed Snape." He heard the raspiness in his voice and cleared it before turning his attention to her, his brow pulled tight. "Why would he kill him?"

Hermione took a step back, her hand dropping to her side as she glanced from Draco to Harry and back again—

"That's the bit you're hung up on?!" Theo asked, his voice slightly shaking. "And not— oh, I don't know… _that Potter shares a brain with the DARK LORD?!"_

Harry rolled his eyes, "We don't share a brain, Theo—"

"Wait— so you can see into his mind like all the time? Even when he's— you know?"

"What are you—" Harry sighed, shaking his head, "—you know what, never mind. I don't think I want to know—"

"How is that even possible?"

"I don't know— it's not something I really enjoy if that wasn't already obvious— I haven't really considered how—"

"What do you mean you haven't considered it?" Theo asked, slightly stunned by his nonchalant behavior considering he had a fucking tyrant dick lord in his mind— "That's probably the most idiotic course of action—"

"Of course!" Hermione breathed out suddenly. "How could I have not realized it sooner? Oh, I feel ridiculous—"

Draco's eyes flickered quickly across her face as she seemed to be piecing something together his mind was in no state to sort out at the moment. Thankfully, Harry and Theo had turned their attention to her as well.

"What is it?"

"Well it's obvious isn't it?" She said and then noticing all three of their confused expressions almost immediately explained herself, "The prophecy clearly states 'An allegiance of Power need be shifted'— that's why You-Know-Who killed Snape! He must have thought it's allegiance belonged to him after Dumbledore died."

"That must be why I've sensed it not responding to him." Harry added.

Theo took a step towards Hermione, "So… by killing Snape, the wand's allegiance falls to the Dark Lord now?"

"No…" Hermione's face lit up as a small smile tugged on her lips. "Because it's allegiance never belonged to Snape."

Draco was suddenly reminded of the light magic pulsing in his veins from that very wand, how it had fortified his Occlumency walls, and how it led him to the black box in Dumbledore's office—

Draco frowned, "But that would mean—

"I was wrong before…" Hermione said then shaking her head slightly as she turned to Draco, as if she were thinking the same as him. "The light magic from Dumbledore's wand wasn't charmed to protect you, Draco. It appeared because it's **_allegiance_** belongs to you."

"Draco didn't kill Dumbledore though, Snape did." Theo supplied.

"But he disarmed him first." Harry said almost as an after thought, as if he was looking at Draco for the first time in years and wasn't sure what to make of him.

Draco held his stare…

_Snape is dead. _

_Snape knew Draco disarmed him. Snape could have told Voldemort. Did he die for nothing? Did he die protecting him?_

Guilt — this guilt felt like swallowing too much saltwater while you sink slowly to the bottom of the ocean, filling his lungs, suffocating him—

"Dumbledore must have known… he must have known You-Know-Who would come for the Elder Wand after he died and planned all of it." Harry turned his attention to Hermione then. "He must have. I always wondered how Malfoy disarmed him so easily..."

"Harry…" Hermione started, and then bit her lip as a pained expression crossed her features, "…if he did then he would have known he was going to die that night, too."

"Maybe he did." Harry said solemnly.

"Do you think—" Hermione swallowed, the thought seeming difficult to voice aloud. "Do you think he wanted it to be Snape? You told me he didn't seem surprised— that he begged him— maybe—"

"Stop." Draco said harshly, hardly above a whisper, his hands burying into his hair as he glared at his feet, leaning his weight forward on his knees— he couldn't think about that night. "Just please…"

"Alright— just— hold on— let me get this straight…" Theo said folding his arms over his chest. "This prophecy… the one where Draco is Guardian of Galaxies, or whatever—"

"Guarder of the Gardens." Hermione corrected.

"Right, because that's not equally as ridiculous—" Theo muttered, rolling his eyes before continuing, "—it states that an allegiance of Power need be shifted, which I'm assuming from the terrible scene which we all just witnessed with the freaky glowing snake cage thing and Snape's last croak of life, is referring to Dumbledore's wand... which you lot are saying isn't responding to the Dark Lord because it's allegiance belongs to Draco, correct?"

Hermione and Harry both nodded. Draco was certain he couldn't move.

"Right, so—" Theo gestured his hand towards Hermione as if to urge her to fill in the blanks, and when she didn't he sighed, "—doesn't that mean Draco's the one who needs to be doing the shifting?"

They were all silent for a moment as they glanced at Draco, who was still hunched over his face buried in his hands.

He knew he should have been reacting to the news that the most powerful wand in the world answered to him, but he felt stuck as the image of Nagini ripping at Snape's neck flashed in his mind again and again...

His mother, Snape, Dumbledore… if they all knew these things… that meant they expected Draco to succeed in helping Harry Potter end this. They were willing to die based on their belief that he would. They believed in him.

For all of the times Draco felt significant in his life, he found none of them compared to coming to this realization, and the feeling of being apart of something bigger than himself, the feeling the got whenever Hermione looked at him with admiration, instead of hatred, that feeling consumed him... and for the first time in his life he considered himself almost important, necessary... that maybe Potter needed him to end this—

He felt the tingling of light magic flow through him. It had only appeared to him one other time while not in the presence of the wand. It began humming in his veins, urging him to follow its call.

As he lifted his head, he noticed something hovering behind Hermione.

He stood to his feet and began moving towards the small golden sphere that had just escaped from Hermine's bag.

"What is that?" Harry asked.

As Draco reached for the snitch he felt the heat of light magic begin to radiate from it.

"Draco…" Hermione gasped as the magic seemed to dance wildly around him.

His fingers were a hairs breath away from the snitch as the magic slowly began creeping along his skin, the light blue glow encompassing him. The moment the snitch touched his skin, it began to unclasp itself. He grazed his fingers along the seam, causing it to lay open in his palm, revealing a small vial with blue tendrils coiling within it.

He slowly turned to face the others.

"That's one of Dumbledore's vials, isn't it?" Hermione asked coming to stand beside him.

Draco nodded, lifting the vial to look closely at the vapor circling within it.

"But why has it just opened for you now?"

"I'm not sure."

"I think it'd be safe to assume that if Dumbledore intended for you to find it then whatever questions we have, the answers can be found in there."

Draco turned to her, "We'll need a pensive…"

"I suppose now would be a good time to inform you that I've got one at the safe house?"

"You do? How on bloody earth do you acquire one of those?" Draco turned to lift a curious brow at Theo who just shrugged.

"What makes you think Dumbledore left that for you?" Harry asked then, moving to look at the Snitch still in Draco's palm.

"The memory I just showed you, the one where the light magic guided me to Dumbledore's office and I found that black box—" Draco closed the Snitch and handed it back to Hermione to put in her bag, "— this was what was inside. Hermione told me Dumbledore left you one too."

"He did." There was a far away look on Harry's features as he frowned, dropping his chin slightly.

He took a deep breathe, and Draco suddenly felt uncomfortable for discussing Dumbledore with Potter. There was still a heavy feeling in his gut from that night and Harry had been there to witness it all—

"What do you think we should do Harry?" Hermione asked to break the tense silence, causing Harry to lift his gaze to her.

"We'll need a way into Hogwarts." Harry said. "I'm certain we can find next horcrux there, and if You-Know-Who's planning to attack tomorrow night we need to get there before he does."

Draco turned to Theo, "Who was the last to place wards?"

"Blaise was the last to seal the passage. He can get us in." Theo responded.

Hermione took a deep breath as she pulled her bag across her chest, and lifted her arm for everyone to side along. "Right then… let's get to the safe house before sunrise. We can inform the others and go from there."

"No offense Granger, but I think I'll apparate myself. I prefer to land on my feet and not my arse." Theo gave her a quick smirk and reached for Harry's hand, the two of them disappearing with a crack.

Hermione turned to see Draco watching her.

"Feeling alright enough to side along?"

He nodded, but hesitated before reaching for her arm.

"That ring…" He shifted his gaze down as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "My mother giving that to you…" He seemed to be straining to form the words. He shook his head and lifted his gaze to hers. "I know this is hardly the time to discuss this, but I think you should know what it signifies— what my mother's intentions were in giving that to you…"

Hermione felt her chest tighten as she waited for him to speak again.

"It's more than just a promise for marriage… Pureblood heirlooms are never that simple. The bonding magic within the ring is extremely ancient. It's magical properties have never successfully been duplicated. Once the mother of the heir accepts the intended partner for her son, and gifts the ring to them, a bonding will take place between their magical cores, and they will remain connected for their lives entirety— but only after the heir places the ring on the intended betrothed's finger with intentions of marriage."

"My mother giving that to you… ," A small blush rose to his cheeks,"… it's her way of giving approval— of, um…"

"Of us?" Hermione supplied nervously.

"Yes, but obviously the other stuff can wait," He answered quickly, "—or just be forgotten completely until— um, that is, you know— I mean, we are in the middle of a war, and I— well, you probably haven't— or don't even want—"

"Draco. It's alright— I think I understand." Hermione said calmly, a smile tugging on the corner of her lip as he released a sigh of relief. His shoulders relaxed then and Hermione desperately wanted to kiss him again, but as he stood there he looked lost in thought once more, as if he still had more to say.

He paused for a moment, stepping nearer to her to lace his hands in hers.

"My mother once told me it was like discovering a missing half of her soul… that she was living through her life only half awake before my father, and once they were bonded their love was intensified to the point where one would, quite literally, die without the other…" He took a deep breath before he added, "It doesn't matter that my mother's given up, because my father won't, and neither will I—"

At the sound of his voice breaking with the last sentence, Hermione lifted her arms to wrap around his shoulders, and he instantly pulled her closer to him, allowing her to comfort him.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," she whispered against the skin of his throat, placing a small kiss there.

Draco shut his eyes, letting the warm sensation of her lips on his skin filter through him.

He knew even if she had told him sooner that it wouldn't change what his mother believed to be certain; but if Draco had learned anything since saving Hermione Granger it was that one decision can change the predicted future—

He could still save his mother.

He would.

He pulled back slightly, lifting his hands to either side of Hermione's face… because for all of the million thoughts racing through his mind, there was only one that seemed to calm him long enough to think it might all be worth it in the end.

"You can make it up to me after we survive all of this, yea?"

Despite the growing dread in his stomach from thinking of all they were about to face, his heart pumped wildly in his chest at the sight of her pushing herself up on her toes to place a soft kiss against his lips, her voice a soft whisper, "Promise?"

"Promise."

* * *

"Professor Lupin—"

"Mr. Zabini, I've told you. You no longer have to call me that. Remus will work just fine."

"Right… Remus. I'll try to remember that." Blaise said casually as he and Ginny walked over to him. "We've got everyone gathered in the sitting room. Daphne's is going over strategy with them now."

"Very good." Remus nodded, turning his attention to Ginny, "And what of Mr. Longbottom?"

"Neville arrived with Luna an hour ago. They said McGonagall has the Carrows locked up in the dungeons. She's sorting which students are of age to fight now with the remaining students who are in the DA," Ginny glanced at Blaise who was smirking over at her, "—even a few Slytherins have decided to fight too. Neville, Luna, and I have been preparing them in the Room of Requirement for weeks, so they should be able to help the others until we arrive. Any word on Harry?"

"Not yet… I'll keep on lookout. The rest of the Order have started making their way to Aberforth's to Floo in during the opening time McGonagall has set for the fireplace in the Headmaster's office." Remus gave Ginny a small smirk. "That was pretty quick thinking on the twins part. I believe they're ensuring they gather enough Floo powder for the entirety of the Order."

"I suppose my brothers have their better moments." Ginny said fondly. "Rarely... but still."

Remus smiled, "Yes, well, you two should go on and give the recruits some calming draught for their nerves. I'm sure their limbs are burning as much as mine in anticipation for the full moon tomorrow night."

They nodded at him before leaving him alone in the grand living area once more. He stalked over to the drink cart to pour himself a drink for his own nerves, and tried not to think of how terrified the children in the other room were for what was to come. He could hardly ease their worry… he could hardly manage to ease his own. His thoughts drifted to his wife and son, and he took solace hoping he would see his wife soon and his son would be safe, no matter the outcome. That was his silver lining amongst the darkness. He would stop at nothing to provide a future for his son, a future where Voldemort wasn't responsible for killing everyone he would ever love…

For a brief moment Remus Lupin thought he had fallen asleep, or perhaps faded into a day dream or sorts, because as he stood near the window inside the large safe house looking out over the damp field he saw something that should have been impossible…

He hastily placed his glass down at moved closer to the window, trying to make out if what he was seeing was only in his head, or if it was real— but it couldn't be—

Because Sirius Black couldn't be walking towards the safe house with his arm slung around James Potter's shoulders— and James couldn't possibly be rolling his eyes as Sirius smirked devilishly down at him— and Sirius couldn't possibly be mumbling something into James ear that caused him to laugh as he shoved Sirius away playful— but that was precisely what he thought he was seeing—

Remus blinked several times, realizing that he had not taken a breath since his eyes adjusted to the fog surrounding the field and landed on the two familiar forms.

He darted for the front door and stood frozen on the stone porch as two other figures joined Sirius and James— but no— it wasn't them at all…

"Harry?"

It was Harry.

Remus immediately felt his chest tighten as the memory of his last conversation with Harry before he went off with Ron and Hermione replayed fresh in his mind.

He could still imagine Harry's glare of disappointment and anger when Remus suggested he accompany them— He could still hear Harry's voice, filled with so much distain—

_'I see, so you're just going to dump her and the kid to run off with us?'_

It took some weeks for Remus to come to terms with what Harry was actually saying to him. He thought him a coward for choosing to join them instead of stay with his family. He was grateful Harry had refused his offer in the end. It forced him to return to his wife— to his son.

As Harry's head lifted at hearing Remus's voice he and the other boy, one that Remus thought may have been Sirius Black reincarnated, stopped in their tracks, and the other boys arm dropped from Harry's shoulders immediately. Remus saw Hermione stopping behind him. Draco Malfoy by her side.

"Remus?" Harry slowly walked forward, and Remus noticed his wand was gripped tightly by his side.

He lifted his hands slowly, his wand limp in his own grasp.

"Remus John Lupin, werewolf, your father called me Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map—," Remus began lowering his hands as they approached the bottom stair, "—married to Nymphadora, prefers Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag…" Remus allowed a small smirk as he added, "The last time we spoke you called me a coward."

He noticed Harry's shoulders slump slightly, a pained grimace covering his features. Remus smiled.

"You weren't wrong Harry. I've come to terms with that."

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, hurrying up the steps to embrace him.

Remus wrapped her into a firm hug before stepping backwards. His gaze landed on Draco Malfoy's for a brief moment, the boy nodded at him, standing a bit behind Hermione silently.

"I believe Mr. Zabini can explain better than I can. It was he who got word to the rest of the Order about your little army here."

"Zabini?!" Hermione and Harry both said in shock.

"Mother fuck— I'm going to strangle Blaise. What good is a secret safe house if he and Pansy are determined to fill it with every last bloody creature, witch and wizard with a hero complex and their fucking brother." The other boy mumbled under his breath directly to Malfoy; the boy who Remus thought carried himself scarily similar as a younger Sirius Black— who even cursed and rambled just as similarly, causing Remus to be reminded of the devilishly handsome, confident boy he spent his youth with, especially while standing near Harry, who could pass as James twin.

"I suppose you were successful with the task Dumbledore left you?" Remus asked Harry.

"We're close."

"I see…"

"Remus…" Hermione said then, noticing the tension lingering between Remus and Harry. "Does— does Tonks know you're here?"

"She does." Remus inhaled a deep breath. "She's the one who insisted I come. The moment Ginny began telling us about the recruits she demanded I assist in anyway that I could."

"Ginny?" Hermione asked then, her brows lifting in surprise as Harry stepped forward, "Ginny? She's— She's here?!"

"Just inside. Neville and Luna as well."

Harry hurried past him then, shoving the door open with Hermione right behind him, leaving Remus standing in the silence with Malfoy and—

"You're not related to the Black family by any chance, are you?" Remus couldn't help but ask the other boy, who shared a quick glance with Draco before answering.

"Unfortunately, I'm a Nott."

"Right… I apologize… you just remind me of someone. Nott? Theodore Nott is your father then?"

Remus noticed the boy grimace… even his grimace at the mention of his father was so distinctly Sirius. Remus nodded and turned to Malfoy, sensing his discomfort he lifted his hand, extending it before him.

"Thank you." Remus said as Draco frowned and slowly took his outstretched hand, shaking it slowly. "For Hermione… thank you. This world wouldn't fair well without a witch as brilliant as her to sort out it's messes."

He saw Draco relax slightly at the mention of Hermione and a polite smile form on his features as he responded.

"I couldn't agree more."

Remus dropped his hand and stepped aside.

"Right… well Theo— was it?"

Theo nodded.

"I hope you don't mind, but I've welcomed myself to some of your whisky. Would you two care to join me for a glass and perhaps inform me of what Harry has planned next?"

"Yes to the whisky—" Theo said, striding next to Remus. "—as for the other request, when has Harry ever planned anything?"

Remus laughed.

"Yes, yes, well… I suppose you're right about that."

* * *

Harry was through first, freezing immediately as he and Hermione caught sight of Ginny whispering with Blaise Zabini in the hall leading to the kitchens. At the sound of the door swinging open they both turned to face them, Ginny's face went pale, her eyes wide.

"Harry..."

Her voice was a shocked whisper as she rushed from the shadow of the hall towards them. She looked leaner, paler, Hermione noted, as if she had been missing meals but also training far too hard, reminding Hermione of the way she would look during quidditch season. Her stubborn determination overpowering her body's need for rest and nutrition.

Harry took two quick strides as she hurdled forward, lifting his arms as she lifted hers, embracing her. Ginny's chin rested on Harry's shoulder and she opened her eyes to meet Hermione's.

"Hermione! I can't believe you're both here!" Ginny pulled Harry closer to her once before moving to hug her.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, noticing Ginny glancing over her shoulder were Blaise was moving to join them, stopping at her side.

"It's sort of a long story, but the short version is that Blaise brought me here. He knew I was preparing some of the students at Hogwarts with defense against the Dark Arts and thought we could join forces with Parkinson and Greengrass's werewolf army." A small smirk twitched on her mouth as she glanced at Zabini. "Sort of brilliant really. He brought Luna, Neville and I here to help sneak them into the castle for tomorrow night."

"How do you know what's happening tomorrow night?" Hermione asked, glancing back and forth between them, sensing Harry's slightly stunned state.

"McGonagall." Blaise answered swiftly. "She knows which passes we'll be entering. We weren't sure when you four would make it back so we asked her to keep it open until sunrise tomorrow."

"What about you two? Why isn't Ron with you two? Blaise told me Malfoy and Nott went with you." Ginny asked then, her brow scrunched in confusion.

Hermione and Harry shared a quick glance.

"Oh, Ginny..." Hermione started, not sure what to say. Did she know about Charlie?

"He wanted to be with your family." Remus luckily walked in then, answering for her, with Draco and Theo striding in behind them. Hermione felt her feet already moving towards him, instantly relaxing as she felt his fingers lace in hers.

Hermione felt Ginny's stare lingering on her hand laced with his before she saw the girl frowning at her. Ginny took a step back, closer to Blaise. Hermione wondered if she wasn't sensing the same thing with the two of them standing so close.

"Well, well, well—" Theo said with a smirk, winking at Blaise, "—Looks like Zabini finally got his sneaky peter in Gryffindor's Beater."

Ginny glared at Theo. "I'm a Chaser, you tosser!"

Theo bumped his elbow with Draco's, "Hear that— didn't even try to deny it."

"Sod off, Nott." Blaise grumbled.

"Lovely to see you as well my good sir." Theo bowed slightly. "I suppose I have you to thank for infesting my—" Theo stopped mid sentence as he glanced to their right to see the state of the living area. Cushions were thrown about, small pallets made every which was, empty plates and cups decorating every inch of furniture. "—filling my safe house with savages! What the fuck, Zabini!"

"What?" Blaise countered with a raised brow. "So you two are the only ones who get to play Slytherin bad boy turned noble hero?"

"I'm fairly certain the state of the living area is the least of our priorities at the moment, Theo." Draco drawled.

"Glad to see you finally came to your senses Ferret."

Hermione felt Draco's grip tense in her own.

"Likewise Weaslette. I'd say Zabini's benefiting from this new arrangement."

Ginny dropped her challenging stare, a blush rising to her cheeks as she tried to avoid Harry's inquisitive stare.

"Right," Remus said, clasping his hands together to break the rising awkward tension. "I'm going to check in with the others. See if we can leave by nightfall. Anything you lot need from me?"

"Remus." Harry called as Remus started walking backwards away from their small group. Harry moved passed them and lowered his voice slightly. "I am sorry... I-I shouldn't have called you a coward. I was just—"

"Harry." Remus interrupted. "I know why you did. You were right. Parents shouldn't leave their children unless they have to."

Harry nodded then as Remus placed his hand on his shoulder. Hermione overheard the small interaction and shared a sad smile with Harry as he turned around to face them once more, his gaze landing on Draco's.

"We should see what's in that vial."

Draco turned to Theo, gesturing up the grand staircase across the foyer. "Lead the way Lord Nott."

Theo rolled his eyes, grumbling as he headed towards the stairs. "You know I detest that title you despicable monster."

"Where are you going?" Ginny asked Harry and Hermione as they started after them.

"To get answers." Harry said cryptically and followed after Draco and Theo.

Hermione paused before joining them, recognizing the flash of hurt on Ginny's features, and pulled her in for another quick embrace.

"I'm glad you're safe, Ginny. We'll come down shortly."

"Blaise told me, but I-I truly didn't believe it... you and Malfoy, that is."

Hermione instantly felt her face flush.

"Oh, Granger..." Blaise was grinning widely at her now. "You naughty little minx—"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Blaise, though her face was still burning from embarrassment. How could he have possibly known? Was she that transparent?

"What?" Ginny glanced from Hermione's guilty look to Blaise. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing." Hermione said quickly and began following after Harry. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"Hermione!" Ginny called, but she was already bounding up the stairs. She turned on her heel to face Blaise. "What was that about?"

Blaise placed his hand on the small of Ginny's back, pulling her stomach flush with his, smirking as he lowered his lips to her ear. "Remember that thing we did when I lost that bet to you? Last fall when Gryffindor beat Slytherin first match of the year...?"

Ginny was certain her face was equally as red as Hermione's had just been.

"Oh..."

As his lips found hers she wondered why she wasn't more shocked about this information, but then his tongue was slipping across her bottom lip, and well— _What were they talking about again?_

* * *

Fenrir Greyback stalked through the dew ridden woods, his nose tilted high in the air. His thin lips curled over his sharp teeth as he turned to face the small army gathered behind him; the army consisting of hags, vampires, and werewolves alike— each creature hating the other, but coming together for their shared hatred for a larger enemy— all those who felt wronged by not only the wizarding world, but also the Dark Lord who used their strength and abilities as merely tools— who saw them as nothing more than mindless soldiers.

No... Fenrir had long sense felt he was destined for more. He would answer to no one. His dark gaze filtered across his followers standing amongst the damp field in the shadows of the woods, pride swelling within his chest, vibrating through his rib cage, escaping his throat in the form of a violent war cry.

One by one the others joined in, the melodic sound of revenge pulsing through the early morning air.

The strode forward, straightening his shoulders to meet the eye of each ghastly creature before him.

"They're here." He growled as the excited cries began to die down. "I can smell her... the foolish witch who thought she could steal my recruits from me..."

He turned back towards the seemingly empty field...

"Kill them all."

* * *

**A/N:** If anybody can answer why the Snitch opened for Draco at that exact moment I'll give you a virtual hug. It's not super important, but I just wondered if anyone picked up on it.

[_hint:_ review the flashback of Dumbledore placing the memories in the vial, he specifically did something that Harry does as well that causes his own Snitch to open]


	25. Pensieve & Preparation

**A/N**: A good portion of this chapter should look familiar, as it will be the memories revealed in The Princes Tale (ch33DealthyHallows) ... but through Draco's perspective to tie together this stories plot... (obviously) some scenes/conversations will be slightly altered. / _Enjoy_&**REVIEW**

* * *

**Chapter Playlist:**

_Flight : Johannes Bornlof_

_Willow : Jasmine Thompson _

_Near Light : Olafur Arnalds_

_Hey Now : London Grammar_

_Lily : Alan Walker_

_reverie : isaac gracie_

_Nocturne in a Minor. : Chad Lawson_

_***River Flows in You : Yiruma**_

_Experience : Ludovico Einaudi_

_Circle : Ludovico Einaudi _

* * *

Draco glanced behind him to where Hermione and Theo were standing on the lower level within the attic of the safe house, and then back at Potter who stood before him on the raised platform where a stone Pensieve lay upon of a stack of wooden crates.

"Ready?"

Harry nodded at him, and Draco inhaled a deep breath before tipping the contents of the small vial into the wide basin with its runic markings around the edge.

After being exposed to everything Potter's connection to Voldemort, Draco was finding his thoughts unbearable, and with the amount of effort he was putting into silencing his unwanted thoughts, he imagined diving into this pensieve, into someone else's head, would be an enormous relief… he wondered if anything Dumbledore had hidden away for him and Potter to view could be worse than what they had already endured.

Between him and Harry, the memories swirled, silver, white and strange, without another moments hesitation, feeling almost eager to abandon reality, if only for a moment, as if by doing so it would assuage his torturing anxiety and guilt, Draco nodded at Harry and they both began lowering their faces towards the silver glaring back at them.

* * *

"How long have they been in there you think?" Hermione asked Theo after a long stretch of silence passed.

She and Theo had moved to sit in the corner where two sheet covered chairs sat near an arched window. Well... she sat as Theo paced just before her, then sat for a moment, his knee bouncing anxiously, then he was up out of his seat once more and pacing the length of the window and their seating area, his fingers fiddling with his wand at his side.

Theo lifted his gaze to Draco and Harry, running his hands through his hair.

"Not sure. Twenty minutes, maybe longer?"

Hermione sighed and returned her attention back to her notebook filled with all the information she collected on Horcruxes sitting in her lap. Theo stopped pacing then and sat before her, inching his chair closer to look over her notes.

"Distract me."

Hermione couldn't suppress her small smirk as his knee continued to bounce, his hands gripped tightly as he rested his weight on his knees, causing his arms to bounce as well. She wouldn't say it aloud, she knew if she did he would disregard her or simply change the subject, veering from the topic of his ability to care— but it was glaringly obvious to her now… she wondered why she hadn't picked up on it before: Theo cared for Harry. She was wondering if their comforting one another last night hadn't been the first time as she observed them interacting earlier with more attention.

She thought back to the moments when Theo would bring her potions back in Draco's room… the way he would tense and seemed to scurry off whenever she tried to mention Harry.

She thought back to the moment Draco decided he wanted to help her find Harry and asked Theo and Blaise to join him, and Theo's outburst of emotions as a response, which was certainly not the most rational response in her opinion.

She thought of all the times where she spoke of Harry around Theo and she was realizing that maybe she had misread his tense nature— thinking it loathing instead of longing, which was quite apparent now. She had felt his reasons for helping Draco ran deeper, but she thought perhaps it was a conscious thing— that perhaps he didn't want to be a Death Eater, or wanted to do the right thing— which might have been partly true… but now she felt foolish for never noticing it before. She felt even more foolish for not realizing that perhaps Harry felt similarly. He was very best friend.

"Can I ask you something?" She said after a long moment of Theo glancing over her notes. He lifted his gaze then, his features conveying his usual bored expression, but she knew him better now, could see the chaos dancing wildly behind his eyes, the desperation and fear that she couldn't place before seeing him around Harry.

"I suppose... though, whether I decided to respond depends entirely on what it is you ask."

She decided it may be better to lead up to her true intentions of curiosity. Start off with something light hearted. She shifted in her seat, sitting up straighter.

"Draco told me you kissed him when you two were younger... that he was your first crush."

Theo let out a soft laugh, smirking at her, "Worried I'll steal your boyfriend, Granger?"

Hermione blushed, but decidedly ignored his attempts to get under her skin.

"No. I'm certain you've no intentions of doing so."

Theo lifted a suspicious brow, "Oh?"

"Though I do believe you may have your sights on someone else close to me…"

She let her sentence trail off, knowing he normally stopped her with a snide comment about her being nosey or that his personal life was none of her business; which is perhaps, why she was confused when he said nothing at all. His gaze drifted behind her to where Harry and Draco were and then down his fumbling hands in his lap.

"You have for while, haven't you?"

He didn't look up. She noticed his Adam's apple bounce in his throat as he swallowed, his brow pulled together slightly.

"I needed you to distract me, Granger," His voice was low as he spoke into his lap. "—not remind me why I need a distraction in the first place."

"I'm sorry." Hermione shifted back in her seat, feeling the same painful tightness in her chest that she felt when they overheard Theo's father yesterday. "I, um, I was just going over my research on the Horcruxes— specifically how we're going to destroy the cup."

Theo seemed to relax slightly, leaning forward to look over her notes with her again.

"How'd you destroy the last one?"

"Sword of Gryffindor... which could be anywhere now. Harry said Griphook took off with it, but he was— um, I saw him—"

"In the memory. He was one of the Goblins the Dark Lord murdered?"

Hermione nodded.

"Brilliant. So no sword. Is that the only way?"

"Not exactly… in second year Harry destroyed Riddle's diary with a basilisk fang. That's why the sword worked actually… it was impregnated with basilisk venom." Hermione smirked at Theo playfully, "—you don't have any basilisk's laying around do you, Nott?"

"I know this may come as a shock to you, Granger, but my resourcefulness does have it's limits…" Theo replied, leaning back in his chair, seemingly lost in thought. A moment later his gaze darted to Hermione's. "Wait... Harry... the Chamber of Secrets. He killed the basilisk there!"

"Right…" Hermione nodded, uncertain why he suddenly looked so alert.

"Well, I don't know about you, but I hardly think Dumbledore or anyone else removed that large of a beasts skeleton from the chamber without anyone hearing about it…"

Hermione bolted forward, her smile growing across her face. "Of course! To destroy the cup we just have to go to the Chamber and remove one of the basilisks fangs! Theo! That's— That's— you're—"

"Brilliant?" Theo offered, nodding with a sigh. "Yes. I know."

"This is perfect! Once we get to the castle Harry can search for the next horcrux while we destroy the cup in the Chamber! Oh, this is wonderful— I can't believe I didn't think of it before— it's obvious— so completely obvious—"

"Don't strain yourself, Granger." Theo patted the back of her hand that was now curled in her hair near her temple. "You can't always be the brightest in the room. Share some of the glory, will ya?"

Hermione laughed then. "Right. You're right. Oh, Theo—" She let out a long relieved sigh, glancing back towards Harry. "You should be the one to tell Harry. He'll be very impressed with you."

Theo smirked then, "I'm not sure this is more impressive than what I did for him last night, but—"

"Nott!" Hermione's eyes widened, a heat of color rushing to her face.

"As if you have any right to act bashful, Granger. You're very vocal while in the throws of passion. Lucky for you, Draco's into that sort of thing. Pretty sure it soothes his insecurities of never being enough. Your moans probably drown out the darker '_she could never love someone like me_' banter happening inside his head as he shoves his head between your—"

"Let's stop talking about this now! Yes?" Herminoe shifted in her seat, glaring as Theo began to slightly laugh at her.

"You started it."

Hermione's stomach grumbled then, though she was grateful for the interruption it also reminded her that she had hardly eaten anything in the past two days.

"Come on." Theo said, rising to his feet and nodding towards the attic door. "They'll come find us when they've finished. I'm starving too."

Hermione was going to protest, but her stomach grumbled again and she placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"Fine." She relented and glanced at Harry and Draco once more before following Theo out of the attic and down the staircase.

Hermione was surprised to see Lupin sitting across from Pansy and Daphne, with Ginny and Luna sitting next to him at the small round table in the kitchen near the piano when they sauntered down the stairs. There were a few recruits on the far side of the room sitting on the long lounge chaise going over some books Hermione imagined Remus gave them on werewolf transformations. They seemed relaxed enough, though she was certain that had more to do with the calming draught she could smell wafting from one of the cauldrons she and Theo passed as they moved to join the others. Blaise noticed them approaching first, he was leaning on the wall behind Ginny's seat, Neville on his right, behind Luna's chair.

"Find those answers then?" Blaise asked them lifting a glass of water to his lips.

"Draco and Potter are still sorting it out in the attic. Granger and I came down to grab something to eat. Any of Mink's sandwiches left?"

"You left Malfoy alone in an attic with Harry?" Ginny asked, slightly stunned.

"You would think she would have caught on by now." Pansy drawled lazily, speaking more to Daphne than anyone else, though she was hardly whispering. "Honestly, is stupidity a trait passed within the Weasley clan, or is it just her and the Weasel? I mean the twin Weasels', even I can admit, are clever enough—"

"Watch it Pansy." Blaise countered before Ginny could retort.

"Hello again Hermione! Hello Theo!"

Luna's voice sprung out over the rest and Hermione moved to hug her. Her smile slowly faltered as Neville approached her next.

"Neville…" She lifted her fingers to graze the scar along his forehead, but he only shrugged.

"It's not so bad… besides I've given as good as I got." He pulled her into a hug. "It's good to see you Hermione."

She squeezed him back tighter and nodded, "It's good to see you too." When she pulled back she nodded at the scar, "Is that from the Carrows?"

"Yea... got it from refusing to torture a first year. No big deal though. They're locked up now. Can't harm anyone else as long as McGonagall's in charge. You should have seen her dueling them both at once."

"It was scary good." Ginny added.

Hermione tried to force a small smile, but failed.

"We were just discussing how many Order members have made it into Hogwarts." Remus said then. Hermione glanced at the table, recognizing the large piece of parchment and frowned.

"The map! But how did you—"

"It's an earlier edition. Not as detailed as the first we made, but it shows us whose made it in." Remus explained, shoving the parchment towards her. Her eyes scanned the names, her heart fluttering slightly as _Ronald Bilius Weasley_ appeared along with other members of his family.

"This was one of the first maps we attempted… It only shows the Great Hall and Gryffindor Tower... Sirius burnt the other half during an experiment with a toad if you can believe it." Remus added fondly.

Her eyes scanned over the rest of the names, stopping on a few she vaguely recognized, one standing out among the rest that she thought she recognized engraved on the potion bottles she used to drink while in Draco's room. She turned to Blaise.

"Marcus Laurent? Isn't that you're step father's name?"

"Blaise managed to recruit some international soldiers of his own." Ginny answered instead, causing Hermione to turn to her. "His step father is pretty influential in the underground trade market in France. Blaise convinced him to spread the word about You-Know-Who and Greyback… turns on there's an entire clan of Russian Vampires who despise Greyback as much as Pansy does."

"Hm," Pansy hummed, "-maybe you have been paying attention, Weaslette, though, I doubt anyone can hate Greyback as much as I do."

"I'd wager there are quite a few who anchor as much fury for him in this very safe house." Remus said with a slight smirk, "—myself included."

"You're step father convinced a clan of Vampires to fight with us?" Theo asked Blaise, coming to stand next to Hermione, handing her a sandwich.

Blaise cross his arms over his chest, "You sound surprised."

Theo shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich. "No. I'm just glad you were smart enough not to bring them here to terrorize my safe house unlike some other inconsiderate witches I know..."

Pansy rolled her eyes, "Oh, come off it, Theo… you can sort your precious furniture out after we win the war, yea?"

Theo only narrowed his eyes at her, his mouth still chewing. He swallowed then. "There are claw marks… everywhere — blood still seeping into my dinning table— and if I find one flee, Parkinson, I swear to Merlin—"

"For fuck's sake, Nott— we haven't got any flees—" Pansy groaned.

Theo flung his hand loftily in the air, turning away from them as he shoved the last bit of his sandwich in his mouth.

"I know a good repelling spell for that. It even ensures none of the fleas are harmed." Luna added brightly and Theo bowed politely in acknowledgement to someone giving attention to his trivial issues, thought Hermione knew now that this was his way of distracting himself from what was really bothering him.

"How many Vampires are intending to fight?" Hermione asked Blaise, ignoring Daphne, Pansy and Theo still grumbling behind them.

"Close to a hundred."

"That's… Blaise, that's incredible."

He smiled, nodding. "It is, isn't it?"

"Want to hear what McGonagall's doing to protect the castle? It's bloody brilliant." Neville asked her as they moved to take Pansy and Daphne's now empty seats. The two witches were standing beside the piano where Daphne was ushering one of the recruits from the piano bench and began demanding Theo show them how to actually play, as the others continued to inform Hermione of everything she and Harry missed since they left for their Horcrux hunt. She felt Ginny's hand in hers, squeezing it once, and they shared a quick smile. As she finished her sandwich and glanced around at the familiar faces of her friends, knowing Ron was safe at Hogwarts, Harry and Draco just upstairs... she felt full— she felt alive, and more prepared to fight than she ever had before.

* * *

After Draco and Harry dove headlong into the blinding brightness covering a vast open field, the images began to shift quickly before them, revealing memory after memory: Snape's memories.

Draco first saw two young girls in that open field, a large willow tree shading a playground as they swung on an old swing set. He could hear Harry's muffled whisper from somewhere outside the memory as he said, '_That's my mother …_'

Draco watched as Snape, who couldn't have been older than nine or ten, as he spied on the two young girls. Lily and her sister. He listened as Snape approached them, explaining to her what she was, '_You're— You're a witch…_'

And he watched how devastated Snape appeared to be when she ran away... The scene dissolved into another.

Then Draco and Harry were standing in a thicker field of trees, a river rustling off in the distance as Lily and Snape sat before one another and he described magic, the Ministry and Hogwarts to her.

_'Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?' _ Draco felt Harry glance at him and they both listened with equal amounts of disbelief as Snape took Lily's hand and smiled at her, '_No. It doesn't make any difference.'_

Then the scene dissolved and they were on platform nine and three quarters and Lily's sister was shouting at her, calling her a freak. Then they were on the train to Hogwarts and Snape was comforting Lily, until two boys sitting in their compartment overheard their conversation and turned to them. The boy looked identical to Harry. Draco didn't have to ask him, he knew. This was James Potter and next to him Sirius Black. Moments later Lily and Snape stomped out of the compartment, glaring as the two boys snickered after them.

The scene dissolved once more and Draco and Harry were moving along a group of students in the Great Hall awaiting to be sorted. They stood just behind Snape as he faced the candlelit House tables, lined with rapt faces. Professor McGonagall's voice calling out students after student. Lily Evans was sorted into Gryffindor, but not before sharing a sad smile with Snape before she sat next to Sirius Black. Snape was sorted, as the hat called out Slytherin and he made his way to the correct table Draco had to stop himself from running towards the younger version of his father patting Snape on the back. The sight of his father causing his heartbeat to panic within his chest. He couldn't remember a time his father looked so youthful, without pain etched into every line on his withered face; but before he could do anything the scene was shifting once more.

Harry and Draco were following behind slightly older versions of Snape and Lily as they shuffled through the castle's courtyard. They listened as Lily argued with him about his friends using Dark Magic and he responded by reminding her that James Potter were no better. Snape looked flustered and aggravated, but eventually softened as Lily told him she called James Potter an arrogant toerag. Draco hardly had enough time to wonder why these memories were meant for him to see and the scene dissolved into another.

Snape was leaving the Great Hall, wandering away from the castle, straying inadvertently close to the place beneath the beech tree where James, Sirius, Lupin, and Pettigrew sat together. They began moving towards him, but Draco felt Harry firmly turn away from the scene, causing Draco to remain by his side, unable to move towards Snape to hear why they were teasing him, why James Potter was lifting Snape into the sky and why Lily was shouting at James to stop, coming to Snape's defense.

"I already know what happens." Harry's muffled voice said, his back still turned from the scene.

Distantly, Draco heard Snape began to shout. He turned his attention back on the ruffled looking Snape as he pulled from Lily's grasp, shouting at her in his humiliation and fury. Draco was about to ask Harry why he bothered to begin walking away, knowing they couldn't leave the memory until Snape wanted them too, but then he heard it, the unforgivable word he had used himself numerous times and could practically taste the hatred in his mouth, and he flinched as that very word sprung from Snape directed directly at Lily: _Mudblood…_

The scene violently shifted then. Draco could still feel the sting of the word bouncing around his skull as they stood in the dark lit castle, just before the portrait of the Fat Lady, at the entrance of Gryffindor Tower. Two voices whispering heatedly back and forth.

_I'm sorry._

_I'm not interested._

_I'm sorry._

_Save your breath!_

It was nighttime. Lily, who was wearing a dressing gown, stood with her arms folded across her chest, glaring at Snape as he continued to apologize. She interrupted him harshly, reminding him that her friends don't even know why she talks to him, accusing him of wanting to become a Death Eater. He doesn't deny it.

_Listen— I didn't mean—_

_—to call me Mudblood? But you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?_

They watched as Snape struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look Lily turned and climbed back through the portrait hole… It was then, watching this particular interaction, that it occurred to Draco why Snape might have wanted him to view these memories with Harry. The way she glared at Snape…

_Believing yourself worthy of deserving the girl will only amount to your immense agony… She will never be yours, Draco._

_She will return to Potter and when she does you will be openly rejected— If you care for her as much as I assume you do then I fear that when she does go to Potter, you will have to carry the weight of letting her go, placing her in harms way with no way to protect her because she will not allow you to—_

_Once she turns her back on you, that will be it— she will be out of your life forever and if she dies… it will haunt you until the end of your days…_

Before he could dwell on that conversation for too long the corridor dissolved, and the next scene took a little longer to reform: Harry and Draco seemed to fly through the shifting shapes and colors until their surroundings solidified again and they stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind whistling through the branches of a few leafless trees. The now adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for someone…

The fear seemed to be dripping off of him, his frantic state ebbing into Draco, causing him to feel equally as unsettled, though he knew no harm could be brought to them here— then a blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air, reminding him of lightening, but Snape didn't burn; instead he dropped to his knees and his wand was ripped from his hand.

_Don't Kill me._

_That was not my intention. _

Seeing Dumbledore alive again sent a hot, sharp pain through Draco's veins. The old headmaster stood before Snape with his robes whipping around him, his face illuminated from the below light cast by his wand.

Something deep inside Draco reminded him that understanding Dumbledore's involvement was their true purpose for viewing these memories.

_Well Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?_

_No— No message— I'm here on my own account!_

Snape was wringing his hands. He looked a little mad with his straggling black hair flying around him.

_I—I come with a warning— no, a request— please—_

Dumbledore flicked his wand. Though the leaves and branch still rumbled around them, silence fell upon the spot where he and Snape faced each other.

_What request could a Death Eater make of me?_

_The— the prophecy… the prediction…_

_Ah, yes, How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?_

_Everything— everything I heard! That is why — it is for that reason— he thinks it means Lily Evans!_

_The prophecy did not refer to a woman, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?_

_I have— I have asked him—_

_You disgust me,_ said Dumbledore, and Draco was certain he had never seen the old man show so much contempt. _"You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"_

Snape said nothing at first, and merely looked up at Dumbledore, pleadingly.

_Hide them all, then, _he croaked._ Keep her— them— safe. Please._

_And what will you give me in return, Severus?_

_In— in return? _Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Draco expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said,_ Anything._

The hilltop faded from view, and Draco and Harry stood in Dumbledore's office. Something was making a terrible sound, like a wounded animal. Draco noticed then that it was coming from the slumped form of Snape in a chair as Dumbledore stood over him, looking grim. After a moment or two Snape raised his face, and he looked like a man who had lived a hundred years of misery since leaving the wild hilltop.

_I thought… you were going… to keep her… safe..._

_She and James put their faith in the wrong person, _said Dumbledore. _Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?_

Snape's breathing was shallow.

_Her boy survives,_ said Dumbledore.

With a tiny jerk of the head, Snape seemed to flick off an irksome fly.

_Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evans's eyes, I am sure?_

_DONT!_ Bellowed Snape. _Gone… dead…_

_Is this remorse, Severus?_

_I wish… I wish I were dead…_

_And what use would that be to anyone? _Said Dumbledore coldly_. If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear._

Snape seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Dumbledore's words appeared to take a long time to reach him.

_What— what do you mean?_

_You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son._

_He does not need protection. The Dark Lord has gone—_

_The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does._

There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last he said, _Very well. Very well. But never— never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear… especially Potter's son… I want your word!_

_My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you? _Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape's ferocious, anguished face._ If you insist…_

The office dissolved but re-formed instantly. Snape was pacing up and down in front of Dumbledore.

_—mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rule-breaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent— _

_You see what you expect to see, Severus. Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child._

Dumbledore turned a page in the prophet within his grasp, and said, without looking up,_ Keep an eye on Quirell, won't you?_

A whirl of color, and now everything darkened, and Snape and Dumbledore stood a little apart in the entrance hall, while the last stragglers from the Yule Ball passed them on their way to bed.

_Well?_ murmured Dumbledore.

_Karkaroff's Mark is becoming darker too. He is panicking, he fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell. _Snape looked sideways at Dumbledore's crooked nosed profile. _Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns._

_Does he? s_aid Dumbledore softly, as two students came giggling in from the grounds. _And are you tempted to join him?_

_No. s_aid Snape, his black eyes on the students retreating figures. _I am not such a coward._

_No,_ agreed Dumbledore._ You are a braver man by far than Igot Karkaroff. You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon…_

He walked away, leaving Snape looking stricken…

And now Harry and Draco stood in the headmaster's office yet again. It was nighttime, and Dumbledore sagged sideways in the throne like chair behind the desk, apparently semiconscious. His right hand dangled over the side, blackened and burned. Snape was muttering incantations, pointing his want at the wrist of the hand, while his left hand tipped a goblet full of thick golden potion down Dumbledore's throat. After a moment or two, Dumbledore's eyelids fluttered and opened.

Snape demanded he tell him why he had put the ring on, knowing it carried a curse. Dumbledore's gaze flickered from his blackened hand to where Marvolo Gaunt's ring lay on the desk before him. He grimaced.

_You have done very well, Severus. How long do you think I have?_

Dumbledore's tone was conversational; he might have been asking for a weather forecast. Snape hesitated, and then said, _I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread eventually, it is the sort of curse that strengthens over time._

Dumbledore smiled, the news that he had less than a year to live seemed a matter of little or no concern to him.

_I am fortunate, extremely fortunate, that I have you, Severus._

_If you had only summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more, buy you more time! Did you think that breaking the ring would break the curse?_

_Something like that… I was delirious, no doubt… _said Dumbledore. With an effort he straightened himself in his chair. _Well, really, this makes matters much more straight forward._

Snape looked utterly perplexed. Dumbledore smiled.

Draco glanced over at Harry, but regretted it the moment Dumbledore spoke again, because he spoke of him...

_I refer to the plan Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me._

Draco felt the lump stick to the caverns of his throat, unable to be swallowed. He felt Harry's quick glance on the profile of his face, but found he couldn't bring himself to meet his eyes in that moment. They both understood now. Why he and Potter were meant to view these memories together.

Snape sat down in the chair across from the desk. Snape seemed to be holding back from continuing his discussion on the curse in Dumbledore's hand, and only scowled at the desk.

_The Dark Lord does not expect Draco to succeed. This is merely punishment for Lucius's recent failures. Slow torture for Draco's parents, while they watch him fail and pay the price. _

_In short, the boy has had a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have, _said Dumbledore. _But do you believe the boy capable?_

The question seemed to catch Snape off guard as he considered it.

_No_, he answered eventually. _Not of murder._

Dumbledore sat starring at Snape for a moment, nodding.

_But you do believe him capable of doing what is necessary to protect his family. _

Snape said nothing.

_You seem to know the Malfoy boy more intimately than I was aware. _

Snape said nothing. Dumbledore seemed to notice his discomfort, or unwillingness to confess to such observations.

_I should have thought the natural successor to the job, if Draco fails, is yourself?_

_That, I think is the Dark Lord's plan. _

_Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the future when he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?_

_He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes. _

_And if it does fall into his grasp,_ said Dumbledore, almost, it seemed, as an aside, _I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students at Hogwarts? With Minnie at your side when the time presents itself?_

Snape nodded stiffly.

_Good. Now then. Your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well as to himself. Offer him help and guidance, he ought to accept, he likes you—_

_—much less since his father has lost favor. Draco blames me, he thinks I have usurped Lucius's position. _

Draco stiffens hearing this; that may have been what he thought of Snape at one point, but it certainly wasn't now. The blame belonged to no one beside his father and himself for not deciding to act sooner. Draco felt the pang of guilt again, for not telling Snape this truth, if it even mattered to him. Draco thought it might. Hoped. That Snape might have considered what Draco thought of him and wished it to be better than spite.

_All the same, try. I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the boy. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done it we are to save him from Lord Voldemort's wrath. _

Snape raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, _Are you intending to let him kill you?_

_Certainly not. You must kill me._

There was a long silence, broken by an odd clicking noice, as Fawkes was gnawing a bit of cuttlebone.

_Would you like me to do it now?_ Asked Snape, his voice heavy with irony. _Or would you like a few moments to compose an epitaph?_

_Oh, not quite yet, said Dumbledore smiling. I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight_, he indicated his withered hand, _we can be sure it will happen within a year._

_If you don't mind dying, _said Snape roughly, _why not let Draco do it?_

_That boy's soul is not yet so damaged. If you could, Severus, would you prevent it from being ripped apart on my account?_

Snape was silent. Both Harry and Draco noticed his gaze fall as a unreadable expression settled across his pointed features.

A small knowing smirk tugged on the corner of Dumbledore's lips as he nodded, understand that, yes, Snape would prevent Draco from such suffering if he could. For Draco, the ability to breath escaped him.

_I'm intrigued, Severus, you agree his soul is worth saving…_ Dumbledore leaned forward slightly— peering across at him behind his half-moon glasses with the same piercing blue eyes that caused most students to wonder just how much the old man knew about them—_ or are you recognizing Draco will be granted to accept what you were never offered yourself? Is it, perhaps, that you see protecting Draco a way to right past wrongs? I have always viewed repeating patterns throughout history as a clever trick played on us no doubt... _

The office began to dissolve again, now they were standing in a small living area on Spinner's End. Draco felt his breath catch as his gaze fell upon the blurred image piecing together before him. Narcissa Malfoy was watching Snape with a tight expression.

_So… _Snape drawled. _You have known all along…_

_I have known since the moment my son decided to take his fate in his own hands. Yes. _

_And you did not think to stop him?_

Narcissa did not respond. Her gaze far away.

_He cares for her. He has for years now without even being aware that he was suppressing those feelings all this time— disguising them as hatred, lying to even himself… I've seen it in his memories. Hermione Granger is laced within them all._

Draco tensed, attempting to swallow the lump in his throat that formed the moment Dumbledore appeared within the memory. He felt Harry frowning curiously at him, but refused to turn away from the sight of his mother, who was now smirking at Snape.

_Interesting, isn't it Severus? My Pureblood son falling for a muggleborn. Perhaps history is attempting to right itself this time around… _

His mother's form and Spinner's End dissolved as both Harry and Draco were thrown into a dark blur of images before settling in a room far too familiar for Draco. They were within Malfoy Manor, in his mother's parlor. Snape sat near the window. His mother's face was sitting before him.

_There is a reason the Dark Lord has suspected that Dumbledore's wand does not respond to him as it should…. Albus Dumbledore is the previous owner and your son… it's true master._

_Draco? _Narcissa scanned Snape's expression in disbelief. _But you killed him, not my son. _

_Moments before his death, Draco disarmed Dumbledore. There are only three winds alive aware of this truth: myself, your son, and Harry Potter._

_Why are you telling me this? Am I meant to pity you? Or are you telling me because you intend to save yourself, forfeiting my son of you protection and pacing him in the Dark Lord's path in your stead? _

She paused, considering her friend for a moment, her anger leveling into understanding._ No... no, you wouldn't warm me if that were true. So is it pity then? Shall I weep for you? I fear you and I are both past deserving to be mourned Severus._

_My intentions have little to do with fear of my death or what anyone chooses to do following it... I only wish to impart on you the meaning of the final line in the prophecy and ensure you that while the Dark Lord uses the very wand that only responds fully to your son, no permanent harm will come to him._

_The wand is prevented from killing Draco? He can't harm my son?_ She repeated, the relief in her eyes filling her features and Snape nodded in confirmation. _Well, and? What is it you've discovered of the prophecy?_

_It's not what I have discovered, but what you have shown me... though I'm certain you were unaware at the time._

_I haven't got the patience for riddle's Severus._

_The answer seen in her reflection... it was under my first attempt to sort out the 'her' that it was referencing to be Ms Granger. Though, after some consideration I understand now that it was not referring to Ms Granger, but you, Narcissa... The word reflection, I admit, caused for pause on several occasions, that was until your husband came to me begging that I convince you to see reason. He showed me a memory, a memory of the two of you and you know what was revealed to me? A painting... __A very gruesome painting, flooded with death and war and ultimately... victory. The woman standing in front of the painting was you, the lifeless woman within the painting unable to stare back was also you... your reflection._

Snape pulled a vial from his robes and lifted his wand tapping it once and the blank canvas behind them sprung to life, images rapidly creating themselves portraying the scene he was describing. Narcissa turned to the image with fear laced in her chest as she watched the imagines dance before her.

Draco and Harry watched along with her, and Draco wondered if this what his mother had seen— why she felt her fate had already been written and unable to be altered…

_Draco... _Narcissa whispered as the painting revealed his pale blood hair, his skin covered in fresh scars and dried blood. _Who is he searching for?_

_Allegiance of Power need be shifted_. Snape repeated once more.

_Harry Potter..._

Just as Draco and Harry shared a glance the darkness of Malfoy Manor disappeared, and now Snape and Dumbledore were strolling together in the deserted castle grounds by twilight. Snape was asking him why he was spending so much time with Harry in the evenings.

_I have things to discuss with him, information I must give him before it it too late._

_Information, _repeated Snape._ You trust him… you do not trust me._

_It is not a question of trust. I have, as we both know, limited time. It is essential that I give the boy enough information for him to do what he needs to do._

_And why may I not have that same information?_

_I prefer not to put all of my secrets in one basket, articulately not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lord Voldemort._

_Which I do on your orders!_

_And you do it extremely well. Do not think that I underestimate the constant danger in which you place yourself, Severus. To give Voldemort what appears to be valuable information while withholding the essentials is a job I would entrust to nobody but you._

_Yet you confide much more in a boy who is incapable of Occlumency, whose magic is mediocre, and who has a direct connection into the Dark Lord's mind!_

_Voldemort fears that connection_, said Dumbledore. _Not so long ago he had one small taste of what truly sharing Harry's mind means to him. It was pain such as he has never experienced. He will not try to possess Harry again, I am sure of it. Not in that way._

_I don't understand. _

_Lord Voldemort's soul, maimed as it is, cannot bear close contact with a soul like Harry's. Like a tongue on frozen steel, like flesh in flame—_

_Souls? We were talking of minds!_

_In the case of Harry and Lord Voldemort, to speak of one is to speak of the other._

They were approaching the Forbidden Forest now, no sign of anyone near as Dumbledore lowered his voice to continue.

_After you have killed me, Severus—_

_You refuse to tell me everything, yet you expect that small service of me! _Snarled Snape, and real anger flared in his thin face now._ You take a great deal for granted, Dumbledore! Perhaps I have changed my mind!_

_You gave me your word, Severus. And while we are talking about services you owe me, I thought you agreed to keep a close eye on our young Slytherin friend?_

Snape looked beyond furious.

_He rejects my help! He's stubborn— and— and far too brilliant for his own good. He's nearly discovered what it will take to have the cabinet issue resolved and I've known very few in my life time capable of such a task. Draco believes he does not need any assistance!_

_Careful, Severus, you are beginning to sound as if you may be growing to admire the boy as only a father could. _

Snape said nothing_. _

Dumbledore sighed.

_Come to my office tonight, Severus, at eleven, and you shall not complain that I have no confidence in you…_

The scene shifted and they were standing in Dumbledore's office, the windows dark, as Snape sat perfectly still and Dumbledore walked around him, talking.

_Harry must not know, not until the last moment, not until it is necessary, otherwise how could he have the strength to do what must be done?_

_But what must he do?_

_That is between Harry and me. Now listen closely, Severus. There will come a time— after my death— do not argue, do not interrupt! There will come a time when Lord Voldemort will seem to question the allegiance of his wand._

_For his wand?_ Snape looked astonished.

_Precisely. If all goes as planned and Draco is truly who you believe him to be. There will come a time when Lord Voldemort stops believing the wand can do his bidding, he will summon you to right this false appearance of error, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Harry. _

Dumbledore is holding the very snitch that contains the memories both Draco and Harry are currently in, eyeing the empty vial within.

_Tell him what? _Snape asked nervously, eyeing the snitch as Dumbledore took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

_Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemore's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself onto the only living soul left in that collapsed building. Part of Lord Voldemort lives inside Harry, and it is that which gives him the power of speech with snakes, and a connection with Lord Voldemort's mind that he has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Voldemort, remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die. _

Draco and Harry seemed to be listening to the two men through one end of a long tunnel, he sounded so far away from them, their voices echoing strangely in their ears.

_So the boy… the boys must die? _Asked Snape quite calmly.

_And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential. _

Draco could feels Harry's posture go slack next to him as his own only tensed.

Another long silence. Then Snape said, _I thought… all those yers… that we were protecting him for her. For Lily. _

_We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength_, said Dumbledore, his eyes still tight shut. _Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth. Sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of Voldemort. _

Dumbledore opened his eyes. Snape looked horrified.

_You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?_

_Don't be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?_

_Lately, only those whom I could not save,_ said Snape. He stood up._ You have used me._

_Meaning?_

_I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter— _

_But this is touching, Severus, _said Dumbledore seriously. _Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?_

_For him?_ Shouted Snape. _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_

From the tip of his wand burst the silver dow. She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were brimming with tears.

_After all this time?_

_Always_, said Snape.

And the scene shifted. Now, Harry and Draco saw Snape talking to the portrait of Dumbledore behind his desk. Telling him plans for the Order, suggesting that they use decoys. Polyjuice Potion. Identical Potters. Dumbledore's portrait telling Snape to try Confunding Mundungus Fletcher. Telling him if he is to be apart of the chase, to play his part. Snape does as he's told. Harry and Draco follow Snape as he moves through these actions until they are flying, Harry is directly alongside Snape on a broomstick through a clear dark night. They watched as Snape's Sectumsempra spell, intended for the Death Eater's wand hand, missed and his George instead—

Then Snape was kneeling in Sirius's old bedroom. Tears were dripping from the end of his hooked nose as he read an old letter from Lily. The second page carried only a few words: Lots of love, Lily—

Snape took the page bearing Lily's signature, and her love, and tucked it inside his robes. Then he ripped a photograph in two, discarding the faces of a baby Harry and young looking James Potter holding him, to leave only Lily's laughing face.

Now, Snape stood again in the headmaster's study as Phineas Nigellus came hurrying into his portrait.

_Headmaster! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Mudblood—_

_Do not use that word!_

_—the Granger girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag! I head her!_

_Good. Very good. _Cried the portrait of Dumbledore behind the headmasters chair. _Now, Severus, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valor— and he must not know that you give it! If Voldemort should read Harry's mind and see you acting for him— _

_I know. _Said Snape curtly. He approached the portrait of Dumbledore and pulled at its side. It swung forward, revealing a hidden cavity behind it from which he took the sword of Gryffindor.

_And you still aren't going to tell me why its so important to give Potter this sword? _Said Snape as he swung a traveling cloak over his robes.

_No, I don't think so,_ said Dumbledore's portrait. _He will know what to do with it. And Severus, be very careful, they may not take kindly to your appearance after George Weasley's mishap—_

Snape turned towards the door.

_Don't worry, Dumbledore. _He said coolly._ I have a plan._

* * *

Draco staggered backwards, gasping for breath and reaching out onto the railing behind him for support. His chest was rising and falling in rapid movements, but he felt completely detached from his body. As if everything that was just reveled to them had officially caused his consciousness to remove itself from his body, once and for all, no longer capable of bearing another moment. Across from him Harry was in a similar state, hunched over sightly, blinking numbly into nothing, his fingers still gripping the crates beneath the pensieve for support before stepping slightly backwards and sinking to the floor, slowly catching his breath.

Draco couldn't speak. He could hardly think as he stared openly at Harry Potter…

Harry Potter who had been foolishly hunting down pieces of the Dark Lord's soul at an old man's request only to find out that he himself was one of the remaining to destroy. Dumbledore had given the task of chipping away at Voldemort's soul to the one person who would benefit from dying to try and complete the task. It suddenly made sense to Draco, why it seemed Dumbledore favored him all these years, and Draco realized with a heavy heart that his envy was beyond misplaced. He did not envy Harry Potter as he slowly felt his limbs begin to work again, and he shuffled towards where the raven-haired wizard sat, his fingers trembling. Draco sat next to him. Neither of them saying a word for what felt like an eternity .

Draco's clouded mind registered somewhere that his role in this was much smaller than Harry's— that though his part mattered very little, it mattered still.

It was a very odd sensation... sitting there with Harry. He felt… confident— sure of himself, certain that the two of them had always been two sides of a similar destiny, taking different paths, but ultimately winding up here. With one short in hale of breath, a breath that felt like his first full breath in hours, he slowly shoved himself to his feet. He extended his hand down to Harry, waiting.

Harry lifted his gaze to Draco's and he seemed… surprisingly calm?

"They trusted us to end this." Draco said, hearing the roughness in his voice as he attempted to cover how utterly terrified he felt for admitting this truth.

Harry eventually placed his hand in Draco's, allowing him to guide him to his feet. They stared at one another for a moment, a brief, but deep understanding floating between them; an understandering that they both knew all the truths of what led them here: Snape had protected them both because of his love for Harry's mother. Dumbledore had used them both because of his plan to end Voldemort. And now… there was only one decision left to make.

Draco was making his now as he stepped back and began lifting his wand slightly before him, nodding for Harry to do the same.

Harry hesitated, eyeing the wand in his own grasp, eventually lifting his gaze to Draco's.

"You won't tell anyone. This stays between us." Harry said strictly.

Draco's brow pulled together, but he eventually nodded. He watched as Harry took a long inhale of breath and something in his expression flickered, something almost… conflicted.

"What should we tell them then?" Draco asked, "We can't exactly tell them nothing. We've been up here for at least an hour, maybe two."

Harry was quiet for a long moment. Draco waited. He was finding his patience around Potter was increasing lately. He blamed it on the misfortunate endeavor they just plunged through together.

"We can stick to the prophecy— that Snape and Dumbledore confirmed that I needed to disarm you. I don't know if we need to share Snape's story just yet. I'll let you decide if you want to after— well— when this is over."

Draco tried not to flinch at the underlaying message in that sentence— _after I'm gone_.

So Harry had made his decision too.

"Suppose it's your move then Potter."

Harry nodded, slowly lifting his wand towards Draco, and held it there for a moment before speaking.

"For what it's worth… I don't think the way Snape cared for my mother is the same way you care about Hermione."

Draco frowned.

"I just mean that… the way he cared for my mother, it was selfish— I'm not saying I don't appreciate that he did, of course I do— I just think— well, you're not him. And maybe the reason my mum and him didn't work out was because he never gave up the idea that only he deserved her, that only he could protect her… You and Hermione aren't like that. Hell, Malfoy, you don't even believe yourself capable of deserving her. That's the difference I think. But I think you already know that, so maybe eventually you could— deserve her that is— I guess what I'm saying is... just— fucking cherish her, yea? If not I swear I will fucking torment you by becoming a ghost and haunt you every day into the rest of your miserable life."

Draco, despite the utterly bizarreness of this situation, laughed.

Then Harry did to.

"Consider her cherished you insufferable git— Can you just disarm me already—"

The next thing Draco felt was his wand slipping from his grasp and he watched it lift into the air and land directly in Harry's hand.

Harry lifted it, rolled it around his fingers, examining it, before glancing at Draco expectantly.

"That's it then? Allegiance of Power shifted?"

Draco felt around his torso and arms. He didn't feel any different. He shrugged. "What the bloody hell do I know, Potter? I suppose we'll find out though, won't we?"

"Wonder why I'll need the wands allegiance if I'm meant to die…"

Draco couldn't hide his shoulders tensing at the casual tone in Harry's voice this time.

A small grin tugged on Harry's mouth, "Never thought I'd see the day where you were uncomfortable with the thought of me dying."

"You must have not been paying attention at the Manor. Wasn't exactly thrilled at the prospect of knowing I'd be the one who turned over the Boy Who Lived."

"Yea, suppose you've been on my side longer than I thought. Who knew?"

Draco only rolled his eyes, shoving past him to step down the few steps to the lower platform of the attic.

"Hey Draco."

Draco shifted slowly at hearing Harry use his first name.

"Yes, _Potter_…"

"Swear to me—" his voice broke slightly before he cleared his throat once more, "—swear to me that you won't tell Theo."

"Yea..." Draco simply nodded, trying not wonder why Harry mentioned Theo specifically, and not Hermione or the Weaslette. "Yea, Potter... you have my word."

Harry nodded, releasing a long breath.

"You go on… I just I need a minute."

Draco nodded and turned to leave Harry alone with the enormous weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders.

* * *

No amount of time could have been enough for Harry to gather himself after what he had just seen in Snape's memories, but Dumbledore had known he wouldn't run upon truths arrival. He knew he would keep going to the end, even though it was _his_ end...

Because he had taken trouble to get to know him, hadn't he? Dumbledore knew, as Voldemort know, that Harry would not let do whatever he needed to not let anyone else die for him if he had the power to stop it.

But Dumbledore had overestimated him. There were still two horcruxes that remained. Both remained to bind Voldemort to the earth, even after Harry had been killed. True, that would make it easier for Hermione and Ron… maybe even Draco and Theo, if they decided to keep helping her to destroy the others. That was probably why Dumbledore hadn't minded him confiding in Ron and Hermione… so that if he fulfilled his true destiny a little early, they could carry on...

Truth tasted heavy and dense, like led on the tip of his tongue, or a slow dissolving pill, not entirely settled but lingering there, awaiting him to accept it, and swallow it whole. The thought: _I must die. It must end._

This thought circulated numbly within his mind as he took the steps slowly, one by one…

*****There was an extremely pleasing sound reaching him as he descended the stairs… a soft, but melancholic arrangement of piano keys that seemed to capture his every conflicting feeling into one perfect symbolic melody.

The sound drifted over him, getting slightly louder as he got closer to the bottom stairs that led to the large sitting room attached to the kitchen. Harry paused in the shadows of the staircase to listen to the tune— unsure if the tears began to form before or after the sound began to soothe the numbing in his racing mind.

He saw Theo then, and took in his effortlessness as he produced one of the most beautiful songs Harry thought he had ever heard— though that may have had more to do with the state he was in and the person creating it… He allowed himself this lingering moment of studying Theo play the piano… the sobering thought that this very well be the last time he ever watches Theo do anything so peaceful, so perfect…

"Theo truly wrote this himself?"

Harry was brought from his lingering sights on Theo as he heard Hermione's soft whisper just on the other side of the wall he was leaning on. He didn't move to join her, desperate to keep his gaze on Theo as long as possible without having to look away.

"Yea…" Harry heard Daphne answer, her voice just as low. "I've only heard him play it once before… the night Cedric died, in the Slytherin common room… they were pretty close towards the end I think."

Harry took another step down at hearing this.

"Cedric Diggory?"

"The very one." Daphne said in a tone that made it obvious to Harry that she was smiling a sad sort of smile. "Theo doesn't know I know this, but I saw them together a few times…"

"We both did." Pansy's voice added in a hushed whisper a bit further away.

"—Cedric pulling him into the prefects bathroom during forth year—" Daphne listed off as Pansy added, "—Cedric waiting for him in the dungeons to walk with him to breakfast—" Daphne laughed slightly before adding, "—Cedric baking him those little— what were they Pans?"

"Snickerdoodles?"

"Right," Daphne whispered back snapping once, "—snickerdoodles… which you know, Theo hates, because he abhors cinnamon, but still— it was sweet…"

Theo continued to play and Harry felt his entire face flush as he continued listening to both him and the rest of the conversation.

"Were they… together?" Hermione asked after a moment.

"I don't think so…" Pansy answered. "It wasn't like Theo was ever going to open up to either of us. I'm not certain Draco even knew… but Daphne approached Cedric about it, didn't you?"

"What did he say?" Hermione asked.

"His response was pretty vague actually…" Daphne said a bit softer and Harry could feel himself inching closer, keeping his eyes on Theo all the while. "He just told me that Theo had never been properly held before..."

Daphne paused before speaking again, her voice lowering. Harry slowly peeked around the wall to see Daphne whispering to Hermione then as they both watched Theo across the room.

"But Cedric saw people like that, you know? I think he thought Theo was hurting and he needed someone… I think he was helping Theo get over someone else, but Cedric never mentioned who…"Daphne cleared her throat, "…I don't think I will ever forget walking into the empty common room that night Cedric died… Theo was playing this song, it was so— haunting and beautiful and sad… I was already a mess, but when he noticed me walk in he continued playing while I wept into the morning… He didn't say a word to me the next morning. He only woke me so I could return to my bed before the other students started waking…"

Harry saw the look of hurt flash across Hermione's face, wondering if his face revealed the same.

"I don't think they were in love or anything— or at least I know Theo wasn't— he hardly allows anyone close enough to consider it a possibility, but… he might have cared for him... it's always difficult to tell with Theo." Daphne was saying as the piano slowly began fade into the end of the song. "…I just think Theo deserves someone to stay, you know? After everything with his family… He just deserves something good. He's not as horrible as Pansy will have you believe."

"I never said he was horr—"

Harry wasn't listening anymore. He was only staring, and as if Theo could sense his presence he lifted his gaze from the piano and found Harry tucked in the shadows of the stairs.

_Theo deserves someone to stay…_

Theo's mother left him, his brother torn from him, and if he had cared for Cedric, just to have him ripped away too...

Harry tore his eyes away from his, stepping from the stairs and quickly moving towards the living area where Remus was gathering everyone. He couldn't look at Theo anymore, knowing what he was about to do— _what he had to do_. He wanted to leave right then. Alone. He needed to go before he changed his mind—

_Promise me? Just— whatever way this all ends— I need you to not die— _

Theo's voice was as clear in his mind—

Then another—

_So the boy… the boy must die?_

"Harry? Are you alright?"

Harry glanced up, stopping short before knocking into Ginny. He steadied his breathing and nodded.

"Yea— fine. I'm— I'm fine."

Before she could respond a loud gripping howl cut through the air around them, followed by a pack of others off in the distance.

Harry's eyes fell on Remus' immediately, his gaze wide and full of fear.

"Greyback."

* * *

**A/N**: So...now... we're... finally... in the action... I know this chapter took forever, but life has been strange and it was my birthday yesterday... and yea, life is so strange right now... our world is strange... and this was the best I could do under the current state of my mental wellbeing... which is not entirely well, but intact nonetheless—

=]

**_* _**_River Flows in You_**_ : Yiruma _**_(the song I imagined Theo playing) _


	26. Sentiments & Sacrifice (pt I)

**A/N:** _Warning_: Gore, gore, and minor death, and all that.

* * *

Just beyond the safe house barrier Fenrir Greyback stood waiting with a fierce canine grin stretched across his thick face... gathered behind him was his army.

"How—"

Pansy started, but hardly managed to finish her sentence as everyone gathered near the window to see the army gathered calmly outside the barrier.

Daphne gasped. "How did they know we were here?"

"Why are they just standing there?" Ginny asked.

Behind her, everyone else gathered nervously, though Hermione couldn't help but notice how prepared the recruits seemed. Yury and Roza were tucked by Blaise's side, the other recruits who couldn't wield magic paired off with those that could.

Draco turned to Theo. "They can't see us, can they?"

"No." Theo confirmed, seeming to blink back into reality as Draco directed the question at him. "They— they can't get through the wards either, unless they have one of us— you, me or Zabini— They can't get through."

"But we need to get past the wards to apparate to the castle, don't we?" Harry asked.

"Alright everyone—" Remus had just shoved through the kitchen door. He began handing out potions to the recruits, "—listen up. Here's what were going to do—"

"Remus…"

Everyone turned to look at Hermione as she stared out the window. The fog lingering around the gathered army behind Greyback began to settle… their dark forms towering Greyback's already massive form. There were no more than thirty crowded behind him, but that wasn't what concerned Hermione. What concerned her was that they appeared to already be in half their wolf forms. The full moon wasn't until tomorrow night.

Draco moved behind her and the moment he noticed what she had his face went visibly paler.

"It's that potion you had me drop off at Kilchurn, isn't it?" Blaise asked Draco.

Draco looked striken, he shook his head slowly.

"No. No… it— it didn't take— the Dark Lord told me it didn't take—"

"What didn't take?" Remus demanded, "What aren't you saying?"

He moved towards the window then, his eyes growing as wide as Hermione's did at the sight. He staggered back slightly, his face full of confusion. Instinctively, he scanned the darkening sky for the full moon that wasn't there.

"How is that possible?"

"The experiments?" Hermione said eventually, piecing it together. Her veins ran cold as she glanced at Draco. "You-Know-Who had you develop a potion that allows them to shift at will, didn't he?"

"That's not possible." Remus said firmly, though he sounded uncertain.

"I-I didn't— I didn't know it worked— my father told me it failed and then the potion went— went missing—"

"Missing?" Pansy repeated. "I think you mean it was stolen, Draco."

"They've got wands too." Daphne pointed out. "We can't fight them. They've got at least ten more than we do."

"I'd say double that, considering half of your army is practically useless until a full moon— no offense." Theo mumbled.

"We could split up." Neville offered. "Send a group of us out as a distraction while those without magic—"

"QUIET!" Remus said suddenly, moving quickly to the back of the room, "Do you hear that?"

Everyone turned their gaze to the kitchen door, a small cloud of smoke curled from beneath and began to rise into the living area. Then a loud explosion sounded beyond the door, the smell fire growing far too quickly—

Remus lifted his wand before him and quickly shoved the door open. The sound of potion ingredients crackling and exploding echoed around them as flames began to engulf the room. Remus darted out of the way just in time, the flames narrowly missing him.

"Aguamenti!"

The stream of water from Lupin's wand fell dully on the roaring flames and only caused them to grow higher.

Smoke began seeping from every corner of the house, down the stairs, from the ceiling—

Harry checked the only other hallway that lead to the back of the safe house and flames were beginning to surge towards them, growing like a wave.

"It's blocked this way too!" He said as he came rushing back into the living area.

"Everyone outside now!" Remus demanded breathlessly. "Cursed flames! — It's only going to start growing faster!"

Hermione reached for Draco, keeping her voice low as they shuffled quickly behind the others.

"Draco— if this potion worked—"

"I know." He said, his chest rising and falling quickly. "You're wondering what else did too—"

"If You-Know-Who releases whatever Blaise told me was at Kilchurn at Hogwarts—"

"We have to make it to the castle first." Draco said quickly. He grimaced then, pulling her along with him as the flames continued to creep closer to them. They were the last two out the door, the fire had caught somewhere behind the safe house, another wave coming at them from both sides. They only way forward now was directly into Greyback's path.

Hermione instinctively found Harry, his feet were already carrying him towards her too. Behind them the safe house was now a vicious backdrop of flames, forcing them closer and closer towards the wards barrier.

"We'll have to hold them off!" Remus called over to them. He glanced around at the fire closing around them. "Theo— can you let down the wards from here?"

Theo nodded, his shoulders slightly tense as he stared across the field where Greyback and his army were pacing manically, thick drool dripping from their overlarge teeth, as if they could sense they were inching closer.

"Right— the strongest duelers will help me hold them off long enough to get the recruits out of here."

"Daphne and I will apparate them out once the wards are down." Pansy offered.

Remus nodded at her. "Good. Very good. Once your out, do not come back. Take them directly to the castle as we planned. We'll be right behind you."

"Luna and I can cover you and help take whoever's left." Neville offered.

There was at least twenty yards between them and the fire and thirty between them and Greyback's army now.

"Everyone ready?" Harry called over his shoulder, scanning their small group. He turned to Theo then, "Ready?"

"Not really, but fuck it." Theo swallowed a quick breath before lifting his wand upward. Hermione watched as a bright jet of blue light streamed from his wand and pierced the invisible barrier until a translucent dome formed around them. It began to dissolve away from the top, slowly etching its way downward—

"The moment the barrier touches the ground it should be safe to apparate." Theo told Pansy and Daphne who both held his stare for a moment and nodded. Daphne gave him a quick smile and reached for his hand, squeezing it once. "Good Luck."

"We'll be right behind you." Draco said to them from beside Theo.

Blaise nudged Draco's shouter with his elbow, "Try not to die. Yea?"

"Self preservation, Zabini." Draco gave him a half smirk, responding to Blaise's usual parting phrase with the same one he always did, though this time it felt different…

Hermione watched as the last few yards of the barrier lowered, only a few feet away from revealing them to Greyback and his army.

She felt Draco's fingers lace in hers quickly, bringing them to his lips once. She glanced over at him.

"Stay close to me."

He nodded, a small smile twitched on his lips. "Always."

His hand left hers and they both turned back to see Greyback grinning back at them, his head slowly tilting as he watched the last of the barrier drop.

"NOW!" Remus shouted.

The sound of collected feet hurdling forward echoed around the field along with the crackling fire behing them. Hermione didn't hesitate to join Harry and the others as they sent a swarm of curses across the field. Her movements becoming reactions rather than intentional movements.

She could hardly process her actions, all that she knew was that she had to keep moving… She felt the earth beneath her feet. She felt her wand gripped tightly in her grasp, lifting it before her and Draco, shielding them as a deadly spell nearly clipped her shoulder. She heard the sound of a wailing scream, a child's scream—

_Why weren't they gone yet? _

"GET DOWN!"

She felt Draco yanking her body to the ground, and then just as quickly yanking her back to her feet.

Jets of light streamed across the field from both armies, so bright in the darkening sky that it felt slightly disorienting. Hermione and Draco elegantly maneuvered through the spells cast their way, managing to hold off the large beasts from getting too close. He was craftier than her, more calculated, while she was more defensive, which happened to make Draco's attacks all the more powerful with her readily shielding them, he could time every movement, every hex just right; fighting side by side… perfectly in sync.

"WE CAN'T APPARATE!"

The sound of Pansy's cry over the blasting spells rang in her ears. Her mouth went dry.

Two of the large half turned wolves managed to get through their battle line, another loud cry pierced the air around them towards Pansy and the recruits.

"ROZA! NO!"

In the back of her mind Hermione knew. She knew that was Yury, the younger recruit, crying out for his twin sister. She knew, but she couldn't do anything but continue fighting. Draco blocked a spell flying towards her shin as she stunned one of the hags lunging for Harry, her mind registering the sharp teeth and sunken skin as it fell stiffly before him.

Their line formation had been broken almost immediately after that. They were scattered now, dodging and shielding, and with every move forward attempting to apparate to no avail. They were stuck.

Another large creature bounded towards her.

"INCARCEROUS!

The large beast tumbled forward as the ropes tangled around it's legs and began tightening around him. She gasped as a deep cut began etching across its torso, flooding his skin with crimson— the sight momentarily stunning her. She lifted her gaze, meeting Blaise's focused stare for only a moment before he preformed the same curse on another, sending it to its knees in agony.

"THEO!"

The sound of Draco's voice alerted her back to the fight, luckily, as she managed to swiftly cast a shield over herself in time to block a powerful hex barreling towards her, but still knocking her off her feet. She felt Harry's hand under her elbow guiding her to her feet.

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted, causing another hag to jolt backwards, crashing into three vampires closing in on Neville and Luna.

Hermione turned to see Theo taking down one of the creatures hurdling towards Ginny, it's large form soaring across the air as Theo's hex sliced through its abdomen, landing it directly into the fire.

"They've cast an anti-apparition ward. We can't leave!" Draco shouted over to her and Harry as she moved to his side.

Hermione glanced around quickly, taking in the scene around her. The fire was still roaring behind them. They were out numbered. She couldn't bare looking to see who had been the cause of the amount of blood on Daphne's shirt. There were several bodies in the tall grass now.

"The forrest! We'll have better coverage there!" Hermione said suddenly, pulling Harry along with her, throwing up a quick shield. She watched as Harry blasted two beasts into the air as they chased after them. Remus seemed to catch onto their intentions quickly and began motioning for the others to do the same. He, Blaise, and Theo formed a small triangle with their backs to one another, maneuvering across the field.

Her lungs burned. Her heartbeat was thumping loudly to the rhythm of her feet pounding on the ground beneath her. She and Harry turned as the reached the edge of the forrest, Luna, Neville and Ginny supporting the weight of a few recruits and Daphne almost directly behind them. But where was Draco? He was just beside her—

The breath was knocked from her lungs. Time seemed to slow down then; the moment her eyes landed on Draco's pale blonde hair she shoved her feet forward, but no matter how quickly she moved, it wasn't nearly fast enough.

Greyback was snarling as he focused his sights on Draco, slowly stalking forward. He saying something, growling or laughing at him— Hermione moved her legs forward faster and faster—

Draco went back for Pansy, who was barley conscious, hanging onto him with one arm— the other no longer attached to her body, but being tossed to the side by Greyback as he continued towards them.

Draco was struggling to duel two of the half beasts on either side of Greyback, his weak attempts at shielding them both while holding Pansy's weight wouldn't be enough. They were forcing him and Pansy backwards towards the fire.

Hermione felt something knock into her side. Her entire body was flung into the air. She could taste dirt as her head landed firmly on the ground. Her vision went black for a moment as she forced herself to her feet, ignoring the searing pain pulsing from her forehead. The taste of iron trickled across her lips.

"HERMIONE!"

She heard Harry calling her name behind her, but as she lifted her head all she saw was Draco shoving Pansy aside as Greyback lunged forward—

"DRACO!"

* * *

It occurred to Draco, possibly the moment they stepped outside of the safe house, that there was a high possibility he would die today, and if not today then definitely tomorrow. He wasn't lucky. In fact, he didn't think he could name one moment in his entire life that luck was ever on his side. He served his purpose in Dumbledore's grand plan after all… so perhaps his destiny was fulfilled and this was the end of the line for the Malfoy's forever.

He wasn't aware of these thoughts as he shoved Pansy out of the way and Greyback pounced into the air towards him— but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew if he had the choice— if he could choose who would die at the hands of Greyback… that it should be him.

As he felt his back landing firmly into the wet ground and Greyback's claws sunk into his chest, raking across it in one quick swoop, he heard Hermione's voice— her voice calling his name— he wanted to focus on only her… that if he was going to die then he at least wanted to see her face one last time… but his flesh was torn open in three long lines across his chest, and the burning, incredibly unbearable pain was demanding his entire attention.

He waited for more— expecting the pain to only get worse—

But then he was being lifted from the ground by large, rough arms…

His vision blurred. He felt his body sway and then he was lifted again, settling onto the back of— the back of a horse?

No—

A centaur.

His eyes drifted open, his vision blurring. Below him on the ground Greyback was coughing on his own blood, struggling to crawl away on his back.

Everything was dark for a moment, and then hazy as he forced his eyes open again. The glare of the fire danced wildly across Greyback's features. He was begging someone for his life.

There was a bright flash of green.

Greyback's body went limp.

Draco watched as Remus Lupin turned around, keeping his gaze down before apparating away.

"…the Dragon is safe…"

"…well done Bane." This voice came from the centaur Draco was currently sitting on, though he could hardly keep his eyes open long enough to confirm this. There seemed to be several centaurs surrounding them now. The rest of Greyback's army either dead or no where in sight.

"…they've gone to the castle…"

"…the Dragon has switched sides…"

He felt the pressure of someone behind him, holding him up.

"…we fight for the side of the Dragon…"

"…against the Dark Lord?"

The flesh over his chest slowly stitching itself back together and a vial pressed to his lips. "Drink this."

"Theo?"

"Who else?" Theo replied, vanishing the blood from Draco's skin. He handed him another blood replenishing potion, his hand was slightly shaking.

"Where— where's Her—"

"She's safe. She's with Harry."

"Pans— Pansy? Her arm—"

Theo stiffened behind him. "I-I'm not sure. She wasn't conscious when Blaise and Daphne got to her, but they should be at Hogwarts soon. Madame Pomfrey will know what to do."

"We must escort Dragon to the castle now." The centaur they were on said over his shoulder.

"Uh— right— you're, um, going to let us ride you?" Theo asked with an uncomfortable grin.

"To the edge of the forbidden forest." The centaurs gruff voice replied, and slowly began turning towards the forrest. "From there the Boy Who Lived has arranged your path into the castle. We will return to fight when the full moon has risen and the last of the prophecy is fulfilled."

"Right— of course." Theo answered brightly as he noticed Draco slowly sitting up straighter, regaining his strength. He gripped onto the ropes for them and Draco did too. "Onward then…" The centaur glared over his shoulder and Theo added, "—uh— sir."

Without another word the centaur took off, leaving the bellowing fire and field of fallen bodies in their wake.

* * *

**Malfoy Manor**

It was time. There was only one last thing for him to do.

With one last glance at the photograph he pulled from his robe pocket, and then another lingering glancing on the note left on his wife's side of the bed— Lucius Malfoy lifted his wand.

A trickle of blood formed across his skin as he curled hand and hovering it over the sharp twin dagger on the table before him. He watched as his blood seeped into the blade slowly until it disappeared completely. With a shaky breath he took a step back and recited the incantation over the dagger...

The familiar whirl of dark magic hummed around him, a black fog formed from the tip of his wand...

This was no ordinary dark spell, but a spell crafted specifically by the Malfoy family, passed from generation to generation, to ensure that what was rightfully there's would always be so.

The black fog hovered over the blade, covering it completely until Lucius sliced his wand through the air, and then... the blade was vanished, gone...

"Use it well, Draco..." He murmured into the empty room and turned on his heel, leaving Malfoy Manor for the very last time.

* * *

**The Isle of Kilchurn Castle**

Lucius Malfoy stopped concerning himself over the line between sane and insane, or which side he found himself on. He was quite certain that it simply did not exist. Madness was but an illusion created by those who were threatened by the greatness it could bring, though often such greatness is dipped in the velvet hand of evil, so perhaps their worrying is justified.

Because, by definition, sanity is having the same mindset as others with similar values and beliefs: logical thinking and reasoning is also important somewhere within the side of the sane; but that was exactly where Lucius began to see the flaw in what is sane or what is not. He thought it hypocritical if society was responsible for determining whether a man is sane or insane.

If the whole of society thought it rational to mate with nifflers and he did not— Well? They would still call him insane, wouldn't they?

Or say, everyone else was hearing voices and he was not, then they would still find reason to deem him overcome with madness; though, to be fair, he heard his fair sum of voices and none of them were particularly pleasant company.

So, no, Lucius Malfoy no longer worried over such arbitrary lines, instead he dwelled in both the madness and the sanity, not giving a flying thestral one way or the other.

When had he come to this conclusion, you ask? Well, that answer is actually far easier to comprehend. You see, it has always been and will forever be Narcissa Malfoy that kept Lucius from truly remaining on the side of insanity.

Once he returned from Azkaban, he could no longer ignore that it was his own doing, his own choices that led her to be punished for his failures. He couldn't blame her for looking at him the way she did now, with longing for who he once was, but overall repulsion for what he has allowed himself to become; and it is this truth, and only this truth, that made Lucius believe he was loosing, or may have already lost, the one thing keeping him from truly going insane.

Or perhaps she was not truly lost to him, yet, but rather it was the fear of loosing her serving as such a blow that he felt the need to hide himself in insanity. While most would believe this not beneficial, he would beg to differ… for there are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape the pain the mind must leave reality behind.

And leaving reality behind in this moment he did, because if he were truly still lucid— on the side of sanity— whichever description you prefer— if he were still capable of residing there, then he most certainly wouldn't have found himself doing what he was now; and what is Lucius Malfoy up to, you ask?

Well, escaping his terrible reality, of course, and destroying every last drop of destruction he created for Lord fucking Voldemort— hoping, maybe, his wife will see his actions for what they are: his apology for not saying goodbye, though he felt she said goodbye to him long, long ago…

He stood before the vast castle soon to be in scattered ruins, knowing that within said castle lay the Dark Lord's future torment and agony he planned to befall upon the world after he killed Harry Potter. Each room within the castle, filled with dark magic and lethal weapons discovered through experiments created by his followers, himself and even his own son, used and discarded like chess pieces, and as a result each of them lost in their own form of hell. He pitied his son, almost, for he was not yet aware of any such line at all— there was no sane or insane, there was only pain… but Lucius was going to set him free from it— and he could only hope pain's grasp would loosen from his throat as well.

He took one last moment to allow himself to step out of insanity and back into reality— to realize the weight of what he was doing, but another moment passed and his choice remained… for he knew with his last decision, his final decision, he would be allowing himself to be remembered by his son, his wife, as a man who was weak enough to think what he created within the darkness would make him great, and strong enough to know that far more greatness would come from destroying it, and only he knew how…

Lifting his wand and his chin high, he shouted the words that would surely bring his end, and thus death to the insanity within.

"Fiendfyre."

* * *

**A/N:** WHEEEWWWWW! same day update?! Waaaahhhhtttt—

* * *

**A/N:** So I wanted to clear the Cedric curveball up from the last chapter since I'm probably not going to be able to fit that backstory into this story...

Theo has only ever loved Harry, but he accepted the lie that Harry could never want him back.

He was extremely young, confused, lonely, and practically incapable of understanding what love even was bc of his family — Cedric was simply the first person to recognize this and act on it (where Harry was hardly mature enough at the time to understand his own feelings for Theo, and like— fighting dragons— and Voldemort and avoiding Rita Skeeter at the time, basically no time for Theo)

So yea, Cedric knew Theo wanted Harry, and it was bc of this that he decided to pursue him— because he thought Theo deserved to feel seen. Their friendship was more of him helping Theo understand his feelings for Harry/ planting the idea that he deserved to be loved... it was Cedric's friendship that gave him the courage to kiss Harry in the first place.

I'm sorry for the rant, but I wanted to clarify that Theo didn't have the same feelings for Cedric that he does for Harry. Since were in the bulk of the action, there will most likely be very little time for back stories...

**BUT!** I would be very willing to write a short One Shot (Cedric/Theo/Harry background story) for anyone whose interested. I would actually really love to explore that so let me know. lol


	27. Sentiments&Sacrafice(ptII)

**Chapter Playlist:**

_Leave My Body : Florence the Machine_

_I Gave You All : Mumford Sons_

_You Are a Memory : Message To Bears_

_Gravity : Eden_

_Statues : Alexandre Desplat_

_*_

"You know... I always wondered if half the shit Harry got up to with Hermione and Gingersnap all these years were true, but we were just delivered to Hogwarts on the back of a fucking centaur, and now I'm certain I know nothing." Theo was saying as they watched the large group of centaurs gallop off into the Forest once more. "I'm beginning to wonder if I should be more impressed that we've managed to stay alive this long."

Draco ran his hand over the scars along his chest feeling the tender, but surprisingly well healed skin there.

"—though," Theo continued, "I suppose Harry doesn't deserve credit this time. The centaurs came to our rescue for our dear Guardian of Gardens after all—"

"That's Lord of Dragons to you, you fucker." Draco stretched one arm over his head, surprised to find no soreness.

"Daddy of Dragons?"

Draco made a face.

Theo waved his hand in the air with a slight grin at his best friend, "Semantics. I'll come up with something better later."

"You two Nancy boys done enjoying the view? We've got a war to win!"

Draco and Theo turned at the sound of an Irish accent calling out to them from behind. They both immediately took in the massive transparent magical dome covering the castle, humming with powerful magic. Just within it, Dean Thomas and Seasmus Finnigan we're exiting a tunnel entrance growing out of the hillside that had certainly not been there moments ago.

"Nancy boys, hm?" Theo said calmly, "—suppose you would know, wouldn't you Finnigan?'

"Fuck off Nott." Seamus's face burned a bright red color, his fists tightening as he glanced nervously at Dean and then glared back at them. "Come on Dean. They can stay out here and wait for their precious Lord for all I fucking care—"

"Ginny sent us to retrieve them, Seam, we can't just leave 'em." Dean answered and then nodded at Draco and Theo to follow them. "Come on."

"You two see Zabini or Parkinson?" Draco asked as they ducked into the tunnel behind them.

"In the infirmary, I think." Dean said over his shoulder.

"Daphne Greengrass was wit 'em too" Seamus added, "—she was carryin' a bloody nasty lookin' limb. Pomfrey should know how to reattach it though."

Theo and Draco shared a glance.

Dean turned to the right as the tunnel came to a fork, explaining, "Just a bit deeper this way."

Theo leaned forward, lowering his voice as he hovered just behind Seamus's shoulder, "You must hear him say that a lot, don't you Finnigan?"

Seamus lifted his hand, a lone middle finger directed at them over his shoulder as he continued walking behind Dean. Theo heard Draco muffling a laugh behind him as the tunnel came to a winding turn.

Hermione chambered up onto the mantelpiece and through the hole behind Harry as Neville led them through the portrait. There were smooth stone steps on the other side: It looked as though the passageway had been there for years. Brass lamps hung from the wall as the earthy floor was worn and smooth; as they walked, their shadows rippled, flamelike, across the wall.

The others had gone ahead of them with the recruits still remaining from the vicious battle. Hermione couldn't let her mind linger on the lifeless bodies they left behind now or she knew she wouldn't be able to put one step in front of the other. Her focus was on Harry's determined strides before her.Each place his foot landed she would place her own, relying on the comforting thought of knowing she would follow those footsteps anywhere— that they were in this together.

The bitter taste of an ending was curling around the tip of her tongue, and though the end was all that they had hoped for, the fear of what it would take to see it through plagued her mind—

She knew Neville was speaking to them, but she found she couldn't concentrate on his words. He was repeating to Harry what he and the others had already told her of Hogwarts since they left, telling Harry of his gran and how she had been living on the run, of the Carrows punishment on the students, of Snape as Headmaster... she noticed Harry's step slow at the mention of Snape, but then became more frantic as if he needed to be out of this tunnel as badly as she did.

The darkness of the passageway, save for the flickering light, and the silence was all too dull... allowing them both to too much time to think. And for all the comfort Hermione normally took in planning and preparation she knew they didn't need to think right now. They needed to act. With each step she thought of the young recruits falling one by one, of Pansy's loud wailing scream as her arm was detached from her shoulder, the vicious slice of Greyback's claws raking over Draco's chest, the panic she felt when she became conscious again and they were in an unfamiliar room and he was not there... it tore at her chest, her bones, her lungs—

Harry told her Draco was safe with Theo... that Remus had ensured they get back... that they would be fine and were right behind them...

She wasn't used to the suffocating feeling she felt from being apart from Draco. It wasn't the same as when she had been separated from Harry and Ron, similar, but it ached differently... like the gap in her heart understood that they had hardly began to brush the surface of all they could be together and it demanded for him to be near again to fill the void.

Focusing on Harry's promise she forced a deep breath in and as she exhaled out she shoved the fear away... knowing that it wouldn't be the last time she needed to do so.

Grateful that a spark of light began to stretch up ahead, she felt the pulse of magic float through her. There was a simmering blue lit barrier before them and they passed through with ease and then it was gone.

"That would be the enchantment barrier McGonagall set up to protect the castle— to keep any one other than students and teachers in or out, with the exception of Order members and Zabini's step-fathers lot of course... She's placed curses over every entrance for anyone with the Dark Mark, even dementors can't get through— brilliant, isn't it?" Neville smiled at them over his shoulder and then stopped as they approached a seal in the passageway, partly visible through the dim light.

They watched as Neville lifted a gold coin from his pocket, and Hermione couldn't help but feel the small smile tug on the corner of her mouth. Neville noticed and smiled back at her.

"These have been great," said Neville, beaming at her. "Blaise mentioned that he used a similar charm on his ring to communicate with Malfoy, Nott and the others.Blaise said Malfoy copied the idea from you, Hermione.Surprisingly clever those Slytherins... wasn't too keen on the idea of them joining our ranks at first, but turns out not all of 'em of are of the rotten sort."

Hermione felt her smile stretch fully at the thought of Draco being inspired by her use of the Protean Charm during fifth year, wondering just how closely had he been paying attention to her over the years...

"The Carrows never sorted how we were communicating, it drove them mental. We used to sneak out at night and put graffiti on the walls: Dumbledore's Army, Still Recruiting, stuff like that. Snape hated it."

"Used to?" Asked Harry.

"Things got a bit difficult towards the end— had to hold up in this room all of us, but now your here Harry. Come on— they're going to go barmy when they see you two."

Neville rubbed the coin in his fingertips and a few moments later the small seal in the wall began to creak open, light filtered into the dark passage until they were met with a large room full of students all turning to them, rising where they sat and hovering just outside the entrance.

Hermione immediately recognized the room the passage opened up to as the Room of Requirements, but was surprised to see the scattered cots and hammocks strung about, students clothing folded and tossed around, plates of discarded scraps and goblets half full and empty... she wondered how many of them had been hiding out in here before McGonagall took over.

"Look who it is! Didn't I tell you I'd be back with something good!"

As Harry and Hermione emerged into the room behind the passage, there were several screams and yells: "HARRY!"

"It's Potter! It's Potter!"

"Hermione!"

"They're back! LOOK! THEY ACTUALLY CAME BACK!"

"THAT'LL BE TEN GALLEONS FOSTER. Deals a deal you pessimistic prat."

The next thing she knew, arms were being thrown around her and Harry from every side. As soon as they were released by one, they were pulled in once more by another. She felt her hair ruffled, her back patted, her hand squeezed, by what felt like more than fifty people. She suddenly felt overwhelmed with a warm sensation, though equally perplexed. She glanced over at Harry as the chatter began to lessen over the room. She wasn't surprised to see him blushing a bright color, a smile on his face as he scanned over the crowd. He looked... proud— nervous, but proud.

"Okay, okay, calm down!" Ginny was shoving through the crowd and moved towards them. She had a trickle of blood on her forearms and neck. She gave Hermione a reassuring smile that she was fine, squeezing her arm once and then moved to embrace Harry. She heard her mumbling to him, 'I'm glad you're okay.' Harry squeezed her back and they pulled apart.

"How's Pansy?" Hermione asked her.

"Still with Pomfrey. Daphne stayed with her. Blaise and I had to brief McGonagall that you were on your way so she could adjust the wards for Malfoy... you know, since he ahh..." Ginny trailed off, but Hermione nodded quickly to let her know she understood that she was referring to his Mark.

"They should be adjusted by the time they get here." Blaise added shoving through the crowd and moving to Ginny's side. "We just left Remus with the rest of the Order. He said Draco was conscious and Theo had everything handled when he left them."

Relief was only briefly felt as Hermione glanced behind him then, noticing a few new faces, though she knew Ginny had mentioned the recruitment of Slytherins, she was still shocked to see how many had chosen to join Dumbledore's Army at Blaises request. As if hearing her thoughts, Blaise smirked at her and shrugged.

"What can I say. I'm quite irresistible and very difficult to say no to."

Hermione laughed as she saw Ginny roll her eyes fondly at him, mumbling, 'tosser' as he shot Ginny a wink.

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked as he scanned the faces in the room. Hermione felt a pang of guilt for not have asking the same question.

"Mum said he went off with Fred and George, but I haven't seen them.We came straight here after telling them what happened at the safe house. "

Harry nodded, inhaling a deep breath. "Right."

"Tell us what you've been up to, Harry!" Anthony Goldstein called out. He was standing on something to see over the sea of people, gripping with one arm from a banister off the their left. "There've been rumors—"

"We've been keeping up with you on Potterwatch—" Another voice, Hermione thought sounded like Cho Chang, added as the others began to follow suit.

"You didn't really break into Gringotts, did you?"

"Heard you escaped on a dragon!"

"They did!" Neville boomed proudly over the group. Hermione was slightly taken aback at the presence he demanded among the group. Apparently he had become the choice to take lead in Harry's absence. It was another reminder to her that they had all grown up too fast, but she thought it suited Neville, this new confidence.

"What were you after?" Ernie asked.

Before any of them could ask another question, Hermione noticed Harry flinch, his eyes shutting as if he had just been burned, his fingers pressing to his forehead.

"Harry..." She moved closer to him and placed her hand on his shoulder as he turned his back on the crowd to face her, leaning into her a bit for support. "Harry— what is it?"

"He's coming." He grunted out for only her to hear.

"Harry? You alright? Need a moment to sit— you're probably tired—"

"No." Harry said curtly. He looked at Hermione with a look that told him time was running out. He turned his attention to the room. "Hermione and I need to get going."

Hermione noticed all of their expressions fall, some growing confused as they glared at him.

"Well— where? What's the plan? What are we to do?" Someone asked, Hermione thought it was a Ravenclaw student but couldn't be sure.

"Plan?" Harry repeated, quite irritably, Hermione noticed. "I haven't— I'm not—"

"Harry..." Hermione said softly as he clenched his jaw tight. She could tell he was trying to suppress his frustration for needing to be so cryptic, but having little patience for how little time they both knew they had. She turned back to the sea of faces, watching them, she shared a glance with Ginny who simply nodded.

"Alright everyone just back off for as 'sec yea? Let him breath." Ginny was waving her hands at them and a few of the closer in the group began scattering backwards.

Once the others were of out hearing range, Hermione pulled Harry aside towards the portrait they had just come through.

"He's close. We have to figure out what it is were looking for and fast." Harry said in a hushed whisper to her. "We still haven't a way to destroy the cup either—"

"Actually we do." She whispered back. "Theo was meant to tell you back at the safe house, but I suppose things did get a bit out of hand—"

"Theo? Tell me what?"

"That the Basilisk is still in the Chamber, here in the castle. Meaning that all we need to do is—"

"—use the basilisk fang to destroy the cup! 'Mione! That's brilliant!"

"That's exactly what I said when Theo came up with it." Hermione felt her lips tug into a fond smile. "He said he remembered you telling him about it." She gave him an amused look, lifting one brow accusingly. "I wasn't aware you two were so well acquainted before."

There was a brief silence as Harry's graze drifted down to the space between them, she thought she saw color rising to his face but it faded just as quickly as he shrugged. She considered her friend for a moment and reached for his hand, squeezing it once.

"When did you know?" When he didn't respond she clarified. "I can tell you two care for one another, Harry. When did you know you?"

"Too late, I think." His response was almost to low for her to hear.

Harry considered her for a moment. He looked as if he was about to say more, but then there was a loud thump on the other side of the portrait and they both turned their attention to the muffled voices on the other side.

A moment later the portrait swung open and a very annoyed looking Dean Thomas shoved a very red faced Seamus through just before Hermione and Harry. Seamus stumbled a bit before turning around, lunging at whoever was behind Dean, but Dean, being slightly taller and broader in stature, was able to hold him back.

"Touchy subject, Finnegan?"

Hermione felt her heart swell at the familiar aristocratic teasing drawl. Theo. Though the swelling wasn't completely for Theo, but more of who she knew to be with him.

She noticed Harry straighten at the sound of his voice and take a step towards the portrait, but then seemed to think better of it.

"Let me at 'em Dean— I swear to Merlin I'm gonna kill 'em— I'm gonna—"

Dean stepped away from Seamus then, making the short tempered boy fall to the ground as he lost his balance.

"Ow my arse! — what the— HARRY!" Seamus shouted from his place on the floor once he realized why Dean was staring gobsmacked behind him. He shuffled to his feet, rubbing his backside, wincing slightly, but with a wicked grin directed at Harry.

Just then Theo shoved through the portrait, a slight smirk on his face as he winked at Seamus, "A sore arse— a bit of a familiar feeling for you, isn't it Finnegan?"

Dean had to pull Seamus back once more as he lunged forward, but Hermione hardly paid attention to the crude things the Irish boy was sprouting at Theo's back as Theo ignore him and turned towards the portrait.

The moment Hermione saw the familiar blur of blonde her feet were already moving of their own accord and she was replacing Theo as he steadied Draco, flinging her arms around his neck, unable to remove the smile from her face. He stumbled back slightly from the impact. She hadn't realized how much she was attempting to not think of the last time she saw him... the roaring fire behind him, Greyback lunging forward, her heart shattering —

"Draco..." She sighed into the crook of his neck as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. She could feel his face tucked into her curls, his lips curling into a smile by her ear.

"Miss me Granger?"

She laughed, wiping at the lone tear she hadn't realized had been shed and pulled back to look at him.

"I was so worried that—"

"I know." He said softly, "Me too."

She brought her hands to either side of his face. Although he seemed perfectly calm she could see the relief flooding behind his grey eyes as he peered into her own. She quickly began scanning him for more injuries, expecting to find the terrible result of what she knew Greyback could do, but beneath her fingertips through his blood stained shirt she only felt raised skin that had been patched together. He winced and she immediately pulled away, but his arms remained around her waist, keeping her there.

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't be. Just a bit tender is all. Lupin left Theo a rather quick working potion for me. Practically all healed."

She nodded, and realized he was still smiling down at her, his eyes roaming all over her face as if he hadn't seen her in years and was trying to find all the differences that time had caused. It was enough to make her go dizzy with desire and all she wanted to do in that moment was kiss him. To kiss him and remind them both that they were still alive— that they were together—

His mouth was slowly lowering to hers, as if he was thinking the same thing...

The sound of Theo clearing his throat clearing beside them forced her to jump in his arms. She turned quickly, stepping out of his embrace, forgetting they had an audience. Theo was smirking at them.

The entire room seemed to have gone quiet around them. Every person was watching them with mixed expressions of confused horror and disbelief. Hermione tucked a piece of hair behind her ear nervously, glancing over at Ginny who looked slightly mortified, but also trying to give her a reassuring smile.

It was then that Hermione realized that some of the students were glaring at Draco.

There were muffled whispers of:

'I can't believe it'

'She must be under some kind of bloody curse'

'What's he doing here?'

'He's one of them'

Harry moved to Hermione's side, standing slightly in front of Draco and Theo and she wondered if he realized what that defensive stance implied to the others or if he was simply demanding the attention of the room, having lost his patience. He was rubbing at his scar again.

"Look— there's something we've got to do and we haven't got a lot of time."

"What do you need us to do?" Neville asked quickly, ignoring the still shaken group of students.

Harry glanced over at Hermione wearily. She knew he was trying to make a decision on whether or not it would be best to be honest with them. She watched his gaze flicker behind her to where Theo stood before he turned back towards the rest of the group.

"Dumbledore left us with a task," he began carefully, "and we weren't meant to tell anyone—"

"Seems as though you've told Malfoy." Seamus countered. "How is it you'd trust a bloody Death Eater over us?"

Harry looked annoyed then, but thankfully Neville spoke up.

"We're his army. Dumbledore's Army. We're all in this together, Harry. We've been keeping it together while you lot have been off on your own—"

"Wasn't exactly a picnic, mate."

All eyes turned towards the back of the room at the new voice joining the conversation. Hermione watched as the crowd began to part down the middle. There, at the back of the room, stood Ron with a sheepish grin on his face directed at her and Harry.

"Ron!" She called as Fred and George and Luna entered the room just behind him.

She was torn with the emotions fumbling inside her at seeing Ron again. Relief, happiness, excitement, anger, confusion, bitterness— Her body seemed equally as perplexed as it tensed and hesitated to move forward. Ron wasn't rushing towards her either. She didn't know what to make of the entire situation; it felt foreign and so far from their normal comfort of friendship. There was a relief boiling within her and she hated to admit it, but it held a certain bitterness that couldn't be ignored.

"Hi everyone!" Luna said brightly. "It's great to have everyone together again!"

Ron was moving towards them and Hermione shoved away the feelings of betrayal long enough to pull him in for a tight hug. Despite everything, he was still Ron. He was still her best friend, and nothing could ever change that.

His embrace was stiff and ended quickly as he stepped back to give her a tight smile. He opened his mouth and then closed it. His brows pulled tight and then sprung up in an attempt to look unbothered.

"You— erm— You look well."

There was a slight tug in her chest as she gave him a smile back. "You too."

"I, um— I'm glad you two are safe." He added, glancing wearily over at Harry.

"Ron." Harry nodded stiffly at him.

If the room had been tense at the arrival of Draco and Theo moments earlier, it was only intensified now as they watched the three of them interact.

"And just where have you lot been off to?' Ginny asked her brothers. "What's that behind your back Fred?"

"Never mind you little sister. We wouldn't want to spoil the surprise. Wait til you see what we've been up to Harry old boy!" Fred said to Harry, easing the awkward tension slightly, as George added, "Yea...Those Death Eaters won't know what hit 'em!"

"Look—" Neville said sternly to Harry, causing the conversation to turn towards the matter at hand. "I never said it had been a picnic, but I don't see why you can't trust us. Everyone in this room's been fighting. Everyone in here is loyal to Dumbledore. To you."

"Of course we are!" Lee Jordan added. "Harry knows that Neville."

"So what's the plan Harry?" George asked.

"There isn't one." Harry responded.

"Just going to make it up as we go along, are we?" Fred said with a grin, jabbing his elbow against his twins and they both announced, "Our favorite kind."

Hermione could sense Harry growing more frustrated with the more people watching him, but then Ron was stepping forward to whisper something so only she and Harry could hear.

"You think there's a horcrux here, dont you?"

Hermione frowned at him, "How did you—"

"Luna told us you were coming back to search for something." He explained, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one could hear them and turned back. "Everyone can still help. They don't need to know it's a Horcrux if you don't want them to... but if we don't know where to look and You-Know-Who is planning to be here any second it can only help to have everyone know. Don't you think?"

Hermione found that she agreed with Ron. She watched as Harry glanced from Ron to her, and she nodded. "I think Ron's right. We don't exactly know what were looking for, we need them." Sensing that Harry was still unconvinced she lifted her gaze to where Theo stood knowing Harry would too and hoping she understood what she was implying without actually saying it— that they could trust others with this secret. She added softly, "You don't have to do everything alone, Harry."

They waited as Harry seemed to be considering it. After a long stretch of time he sighed.

"All right." He said softly to her and Ron and then turned to address everyone else, "Okay."

At once, all the murmuring and jokes from the twins ceased as they waited for Harry to speak again. Everyone looked alert... excited.

"There's something we need to find... something— something that will help us overthrow You-Know-Who. It's here at Hogwarts, but we aren't certain where. It might have belonged to Ravenclaw. Has anyone heard of an object like that?"

Hermione glanced to where Cho, Michael, Padma, and Terry were gathered, all Ravenclaws.

Luna stepped forward then, shoving gently past Dean and Seamus to talk to Harry.

"Well, there's her lost diadem. You know of it, don't you?" The blonde Ravenclaw turned to Theo then, who shifted uncomfortably as all eyes turned to him. "We discussed it in the dungeons, remember, Theo? The lost diadem of Ravenclaw? I told you of how Daddy's been trying to duplicate it."

"Yeah, the lost diadem..." Theo said striding forward, stopping on the other side of Harry, "...is lost, Luna. That's sort of the point, isn't it?"

"When was it lost?' Harry asked them.

"Centuries ago, they say," said Cho. "Professor Flitwick says the diadem vanished with Ravenclaw herself. People have looked, but..."

"Nobody's ever found a trace of it." Michael finished for her.

The look of disappointment flashed over everyone's face and Harry looked even more frustrated than before. His fingers pressing to his scar once more as he mumbled, 'of course they haven't...'

"What is it exactly? A diadem?" Ron asked nervously.

"Its a kind of crown," explained Terry Boot. "Ravenclaw's was supposed to have magical properties, enchanted the wisdom of the wearer."

"Yes!" Luna confirmed, "Daddy's Wrackspurt siphons—"

"Not sure that's relevant at the moment, Lovegood." Blaise whispered to her calmly.

Hermione was searching her brain for anything she may have missed, calculating everything they knew about Horcruxes, hoping something would ring off in her mind when she heard Draco clearing his throat behind them.

"Uh— Potter."

She turned to see him looking smaller than she ever had before. He had his arms folded over his chest and seemed to be very distinctly trying to avoid the heated glares coming his way from everyone in the room.

"I think I might have an idea where to find it."

"What?"

"I've— uh, I've seen it, or at least I think I have."

"Impossible!" Said Terry.

"He's lying!"

"What is he even doing here anyway?"

"Don't trust him!"

The voices continued to grow and Hermione was about to say something, but then she was struck speechless as Ron's voice roared over the rest.

"EVERYONE SHUT UP! LAY OFF 'EM, ALRIGHT?" Ron was glaring back at the group of now surprised faces. "Malfoy's here. He's trying to help, same as you lot. Not saying I like it anymore than you do, but were wasting time we don't have, yea?"

When Ron turned back around he just shrugged at Harry and Hermione, who were both openly blinking at him in utter amazement.

As if to heighten his point the castle seemed to vibrate and shake beneath their feet, and the hum of magic attempting to penetrate the barrier outside thundered through the air. Everyone became deathly still then.

"Where'd you think you saw it, Ferret?" Ron demanded, pulling everyone's attention back to the urgent more matter.

Draco grimaced at Ron but seemed to be grateful all the same.

"Here, actually."

"Didn't I just say were running out of time. Don't be so bloody cryptic—"

"I'm not. It was here. In this room, but while it was the Room of Hidden Things. I stumbled upon it last year when I was—" Draco glanced away and then at Harry rolling his eyes. "Well, you know."

"When you were hoarding in a group of Death Eaters, you mean?" Seamus mumbled for everyone to hear.

"You're certain it was the diadem?" Harry asked, ignoring Seamus. "No, but it's somewhere to start, unless you've got a better idea?'

Harry glanced around the room and then quickly turned to Ron when he came to a conclusion in his head. "Alright. Ron? We'll need everyone out, think you can take everyone to Remus and the others while we conjure the Room of Hidden Things? Check the castle along the way? Ravenclaw Tower, maybe? Just in case."

A large smile shot across Ron's face and Hermione thought Ron looked relived at having his best friend ask him for his help.

"Yea... Yea. I think I can manage it."

Harry shot him a friendly smile back. "I know you can."

Neville turned to everyone then and raised his arms out. "Looks like we've got a war to win! Whose with me?"

There was a loud outburst of cheering and clapping around the room. Some students jumping while others were raising their wands, a few sparks of light streaming upward.

"Well what are you fools waiting for?" Fred announced after him.

"Let's get out there or all the good Death Eaters'll be taken!" George shouted next.

The cheering continued as the twins and Neville began shuffling the others out. There were a few shouts back at Harry wishing him luck.

Ron turned to them as the last of the crowd cleared out. "What will you two be doing?"

"Hermione will be destroying the one we've got while Malfoy and I search for the other." At the mention of Malfoy Ron frowned slightly, and Harry added, "He's already seen it, Ron. He knows what to look for."

Hermione felt a heavy arm flung across her shoulder then and glanced up to see Theo smirking down at her.

"I already know what you're going to ask and the answer is: Yes, but of course, my dearest Granger, I would love nothing more than to accompany you to the deep and dark creepy place that hosts the rotten corpse we seek to destroy that treacherous bit of Dick Lord's soul."

Hermione couldn't stop herself from grinning as she rolled her eyes fondly at Theo. She looked over to see Ron's brow pulled as he regarded the long lean arm draped over her shoulder.

"He's surpassingly resourceful and not entirely as absurd as he'd want you to believe." She explained.

Theo smirked winningly down at her. "I'll take that as a conformation of my accompanying you then."

"It's only fair I suppose." She sighed.

"Deep dark creepy place?' Ron asked.

"Chamber of Secrets. We need the fang of the Basilisk to destroy the cup we found at Gringotts." Harry explained and then shot a glance at Theo, there was a small twitch of his lips."And Mione's right— she'll be safe with Theo."

She swore she felt Theo's arm tense around her and his pulse quicken as Harry's eyes lingered on him.

"Alright..." Ron nodded. He scratched at the back of his neck and glanced around at the four of them. "Just be careful alright? I'd offer to come along, but mum's having a fit over Ginny wanting to fight. I promised her I wouldn't let her leave my side."

"We'll come join you soon as we can." Harry promised.

There was a short pause and then Harry lunged forward to pull Ron into a tight embrace. Hermione smiled as she watched Ron seem to sag with a bit of relief and hugged him back.

She thought she heard Draco mumble something along the lines of 'for fuck's sake Potter we haven't the time' as Theo nudged him saying 'why don't you ever hug me like that?'

Harry and Ron shared a few muffled apologizes and then Ron was shoving him backwards.

"Alright. Alright, you sap— enough already."

Harry laughed and stepped back.

"See you soon then?" Ron asked.

Harry hesitated and Hermione saw the flickering of something in Harry's expression, as if he was forcing himself to not say something. Out of the corner of her eye even Draco's shoulders seemed to fall slightly as he dropped his annoyed glare on the two.

"Yea..." Harry forced out, nodding. "Yea, see you soon."

Ron glanced over at Hermione and reached for her hand, squeezing it once.

"Be careful, Ron."

"You too." He released her hand.

"You coming Ron?!" Neville called from the door, waiting.

"Good luck." Ron gave them both one quick smile and turned to leave.

It was clear, as the four of them stepped back into the corridor upstairs, that in the minutes that they had spent in the Room of Requirement the situation within the castle had begun to take a turn: the walls and ceiling were shaking worse than ever; dust filled the air, and through the nearest window, Harry saw a burst of green and yellow lights so close to the foot of the castle that he knew the Death Eaters must be working relentlessly to penetrate the enchanted barrier.

"If we don't find you in the courtyard with the others after we destroy the cup we'll come look for you both here." Hermione was saying as she pulled Harry in for a tight gripping hug.

Harry nodded at her and then she was being pulled into Draco's arms. Harry quickly adverted his gaze, struggling to ignore the sound of her surprised gasp of delight as Draco began lowering his lips to hers.

Harry turned away, shuffling a few steps away and glanced over to find Theo watching him.

Harry wanted to say something. He wanted to reach out to him the way Draco had just done with Hermione—

He couldn't.

Could he?

It had been painful enough to lie to Ron moments ago... he wasn't sure he could do it again. He knew it was best to hide the truth from Ron, to protect him from knowing that 'No, Ron, I don't think I will be seeing him soon...'

But then again, Theo wasn't Ron. Theo wouldn't want Harry to protect him, to comfort him with lies... not anymore... maybe before—

Before— when what they had was only a cherished secret they kept only for themselves, a secret that had meant much more than either of them were willing to admit—

Before— when Theo would look at him much like he was now... because hadn't he always looked at him like this, but only now could Harry understand what that look meant?— The look that Theo so often gave him when they would spend those rare evenings not talking, but just existing next to one another— draining the other of comfort without acknowledging it— and right now...

Right now, Theo was staring at him the way he would on those quiet evenings... on the nights where he understood that Harry couldn't talk because things were too heavy and he just needed an escape from it all... It was on those nights he would give Harry this look, and with that one look it was as if Theo was absorbing whatever emotion Harry leaked into the atmosphere, tucking it away, hiding it in the hallows of his own bones where it could never bother him again—

—with that one look Theo was offering to bear it all...

Harry cursed himself for never recognizing this before, for being so selfish, so blind— that while Theo's bones were laced with his own grief, terror and pain, that Theo was still desperate to rid Harry of his — selflessly willing to carry it so he wouldn't have to— as if he would rather drown under the weight of their combined pain than have Harry feel an ounce of it at all.

All this time while Harry struggled to protect everyone else, Theo only ever wanted to protect him; an impossible task, Harry knew this... if only he had realized it sooner he could have spared Theo from believing he could. But he also knew it was too late because Theo was looking at him still... offering... and Harry knew the damage was done.

The damage was done.

Harry knew before the nights end that his love for Harry would destroy him.

Harry wondered why he was surprised to find the Fates capable of such cruelty. He was the last person who should expect anything less. But even so... even if all that he and Theo had was a cruel glance of everything that could be, he knew— Harry knew — he would have gladly done it all again if it meant knowing the person standing before him now. He would take the cruelty of them over never having Theo look at him the way he was now.

Harry took a step forward.

"Theo, I—"

There was a loud sound coming from the lower floors within the castle, forcing Harrys attention back to the present. A loud cracking noise echoed through the air.

"Meet you back here in one hour." He heard Draco confirming quietly against Hermione's lips and then she was stepping back. She gave Harry one more quick glance, murmuring, 'be safe', before reaching for Theo and pulling him along with her. Theo staggered backward, brow furrowed as he regarded Harry, and then turned to join her at a jog, glancing back at him only once before they disappeared around the corner.

Harry inhaled a deep breath, shaking himself into focus and realized Draco had begun pacing in front of him with his eyes shut, summoning the Room of Hidden Things.

The feeling of his scar pulsing distracted him from his previous thoughts, and he quickly tries to ignore it. He knows Voldemort is approaching. There is a glow from the enchanted dome coming from the window down the hall, and below Harry can hear the clashing sounds of the castle's suits of armor marching towards the courtyard, sounds of rushing footsteps as students and teachers position themselves for battle—

Just as the door to the Room appears Harry and Draco both freeze. A hushed vicious whisper creeps into the air around them, forcing them to listen; a voice both Harry and Draco know intimately.

"I know that you are preparing to fight..."

As Voldemort's voice hissed all around them, the sound of screams echoed from deep within the castle. Draco moved quickly then, springing into action. He shoved Harry inside the carnivorous and cluttered room.

"This way." He told Harry and they both darted forward searching maniacally as the voice continued to invade their senses.

"Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood."

As the door to the room closed behind them the sounds of the battlegrounds outside were silenced, the kind of silence that presses in on you from all sides, that seems unavoidable no matter where you turn, the voice slithering within it felt deafening...

"Give me Harry Potter..." Voldemort continued. "Give me Harry Potter and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter and you will be rewarded... You have until midnight."

Harry forced his mind to focus on the task at hand, knowing that the quicker they found and destroyed the diadem Voldemort would get exactly wanted, Harry would give himself over. Harry wondered briefly if he should turn himself over now and save everyone the trouble of having to fight at all. He wondered if Malfoy was thinking the same thing as Draco had suddenly stopped, causing Harry to almost bump into the back of him.

"Hello darling Nephew."

Harry's attention jolted to the right where a cackling laugh echoed around them. He knew that laugh, but as Draco and Harry moved into a defensive stance, back to to back, wands at the ready, glancing frantically around the cluttered towers of mess, they saw no one.

"... or should I say traitor?"

The black outline of a figure approached them though it was far too tall and broad to be the source of the feminine voice that continued to cackle around the room.

Another figure approached them from their left and finally a third, the wild raven colored hair that belonged to the witch who was speaking came into view.

_Bellatrix_.

"Ready Freddie?"

"Ready Georgie!"

Neville heard the twins conversing behind him as he headed to the other end of the bridge towards the large group of Snatchers awaiting for the enchanted dome to dissolve. Ginny, Blaise, Luna, Parma, Nigel, Ernie and Cho were stationed on the opposite end, awaiting any Snatchers that may get through once the barrier drops. They had just watched several of Voldemort's army evaporate after attempting to penetrate the barrier and Neville felt his heart humming in his ears, lungs, and chest on a fast repeated loop with each step forward. Just beyond the castle Neville could see the large flames roaring in the distant night sky, the quidditch pitch set ablaze with fire. He turned his gaze back down to the large group of Snatchers as one lone ember began to descend. The wizard standing in front, leading the large pack, was watching it wearily.

Neville sent a nervous glance across the bridge behind him. He saw Seamus kneeled down next to Fred and George, a mischievous grin spreading over his features as he lifted his thumb into the air, signaling to him that they were ready. Neville lifted his wand and placed the last of the explosion packets that Seamus had invented on the ledge of the bridge at its entrance.

The Snatcher in the front was slowly lifting his foot, testing our the barrier enchantment and when his foot touched the earth one stride in front of him he slowly lifted his gaze to Neville's. A slow smirk crossed his dirty face and Neville felt his heart fall into his stomach.

"Here we go." He mumbled to himself and lifted his wand just as quickly, sending a jolt of stinging magic at the wizard before retreating backwards.

"AGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The yelling erupted into the night air as the massive army rushed forward. The front man lunged towards Neville, who had begun sending several hexes there way as he sprinted across the bridge.

His lungs burned as he pushed himself to run faster, dodging the bright spells shot his way. The bridge above him crumbled and he knew a sharp piece of wood had lodged itself into his right shoulder. He hardly registered the pain as adrenaline shot through him, forcing him onward. The sound of a loud explosive went off behind him. He glanced up and saw Fred, George and Seamus activating the explosion packets and shielding him from the Snatchers hexes as he raced forward.

"Neville!"

"HURRY!"

The bridge was crumbling behind him and he felt his footing begin to sink. With one last lunge forward he shot a rope from the end of his wand, pleading that one of his friends latched on to it in time. He was falling with the rubble of the bridge around him, gripping desperately to the end of the rope when he felt his body yank to a stop. He could hardly catch his breath as he tilted his head up, but a soft laugh escaped his tightening chest when he saw Fred and George smiling down at him as they tugged at the opposite end of the rope.

"Well, that went well." Neville croaked out, giving them a gin as he flopped on the solid surface again. "Quick reflexes, boys."

"Well?' Seamus asked with far too much excitement in his eyes, black char from the explosion covering his cheek. "That was bloody brilliant!"

"More than brilliant." George offered.

"Yea, more like mental." Fred added, lifting Neville to his feet by the elbow. "Quick thinking with the rope, mate."

Neville was about to respond when he felt someone's arms wrapping around his torso, slightly knocking him out of breath was more, though this time with the pleasant addition of long soft blonde hair getting caught in his fingers.

"That was so brave, Neville." Luna said beaming up at him. She lifted herself on her toes and planted a firm kiss to his lips. "I've wanted to do that for awhile now. Now seemed a good a time as any, don't you think?"

Neville was blinking at her as if she had just sprouted out another head. He may have heard Fred and George making an inappropriate comment and Ginny giggling, but hardly bothered with acknowledging them. Instead he lowered his mouth the Luna's again, savoring the softness to her lower lip between his. When he pulled away he found her blinking much like he was moments ago, a large smile formed on his mouth as a warmth he hadn't ever known to exist spread down his body.

"Yea," He breathed out nervously, "Yea, I think now is a good a time as any."

"For Christ's sake man, keep it in yer pants! We've got more Death Eaters to be rid of!" Seamus groaned.

"Takes down an entire army of Snatchers once and suddenly he's Casanova." Dean added with a wink at Neville.

"Casa-who?" Seamus asked.

"Muggle reference. He was a ladies man, basically. Totally hot."

Seamus frowned at Dean, "Wait— you, um— you think another guys hot?"

Dean just shrugged. "Yeah. I think loads of guys are attractive."

Ginny and Blaise shared an amused glance as they watched Seamus piece it slowly together in his head.

Fred and George moved to clasp both Seamus and Dean on the shoulder, guiding them back towards the castle as the others began to to do the same. The sounds of the battle drawing them back to reality.

Fred leaned in, glancing at the two boys, "Why don't you two just kiss already and stop pretending you're straight, yea?"

"What?" Seamus sputtered, "I'm not a—"

"Yes, you are." Dean said stopping to turn towards Seamus. He gripped his face between his hands and pulled Seamus in, latching his lips on his best friends and then pulled back a moment later to smile at him. "They're right and we may die so... well, now you know."

Seamus froze in shock, his face blushing red.

"Come on Lovebirds." Ginny called over her shoulder, rolling her eyes at her brothers who were now exchanging galleons on a bet they probably made in regards to said kisses that had just sprung out of no where.

Neville smiled at Luna and she reached for his hand, lacing her fingers with his. As they passed, Seamus glanced at Dean's hand and did the same. He lifted their intertwined fingers and gave Dean a nervous glance.

"Is this— uhh— is this what we're meant to be doin' then?"

Dean just laughed and began following after the others. Seamus smiled though, as Dean's fingers remained locked around his, gripping tighter the closer they got to the castle.

**A/N**: Yes, I know, it's been awhile. I have reasons. I won't bore you with them. Sorry if this chapter seems rushed (didn't have energy to edit or reread) But just know I am still here and still very much excited to share the rest of this story. Only a few chapters to go and still so many loose ends to tie up. Hope everyone is well :)


	28. Daggers & Dark Hours (pt I)

As Hermione and Theo sprinted through the castle the array of sounds indicated that they were now completely thrown into battle: the blasting of the castle walls crumbling to a heap from ricocheted hexes, the crying wails of those who had been on the receiving end of skin slicing curses, loud thunderous roars from the creatures who had joined in for the fight, but it wasn't until their feet landed on the bottom staircase that Hermione and Theo were able to take in the full scene below.

Heart pounding and palms sweaty, they both paused for only a moment to see the disastrous state of the battle below. Hermione could hardly keep her eyes on one thing before being knocked breathless by the next. Large, towering trolls swung their weapons, knocking entire groups into the hard lining of the castle walls. Light streamed across the courtyard, joined colors painted the scene in shades of bright blues, yellows, red, and greens. Her lungs felt as if someone was gripping them tightly once she noticed the blur of familiar red hair dueling down below.

"Ron!" She knew the moment she shouted his name that there was no use, as she could hardly hear her own voice amongst the raging sounds of war. She held her breath and released it the moment she saw him struggle to his feet, George was at his side in an instant and they were off once more.

"Come on!" Theo said as he wrapped his hand in hers, pulling her along beside him.

Hermione was so focused on moving as quickly as she could that she was nearly knocked onto her back when Theo thrust his arm out in front of her shoulders, shoving her backward as a bright jet of green light knocked into the corner wall they were tucked behind. They both took a deep breath and lunged forward, Theo casting a stinging hex as she shielded them from several bursts of light spiraling down on them. She felt her shield weakening. She glanced down the opposite hall and reached for Theo's arm.

"This way!"

They hurried along the empty hall way, only pausing at the sound of a group of students rushing towards them, McGonagall at the led.

"Miss Granger! Mr. Nott!" She exclaimed frantically, urging the group of students ahead as she paused to call after them, "Go on. To the infirmary. Off with you!"

She turned back to Hermione and Theo as the children ran faster down the hall.

"I'm assuming you two are assisting Potter with whatever it is Dumbledore left him, yes?" She asked, slightly out of breath. Hermione had never seen the woman look so fierce. The focus in her eyes was enough to make her shiver, it reminded Hermione of a perched eagle, prepared to descend on her prey.

"Yes Professor." Hermione said quickly, attempting to catch her breath. "We need to get to the girls laboratory, 2nd floor. Quickly!"

"Very well. Take a left up ahead. There are a few stunned Death Eaters the opposite way that may have others coming behind them. There is a blank tapestry, lined in silver, just around the corner. Do you know the one?"

Hermione frowned, unable to think of much of anything as another blast sounded over head, causing each of them to duck and rush deeper into the hall.

"I know the one." Theo said quickly. "Leads you past the DADA office, behind it is the hidden staircase."

Hermione took a moment to glance at Theo as her brain scrambled to remember such passage. It clicked another moment later, as she pictured the hidden path on the Marauders Map. She frowned at him, wondering how it is he would know such a thing, as that particular 'hidden stiarcase' leads directly to the Gryffindor tower, specifically the boys dormitory—

She felt her gaze narrowing on him suspiciously thinking that maybe Harry was to blame for the Slytherins awareness of said passage— Theo noticed her starring and just shrugged.

"Precisely, Mr. Nott. Across is another entrance to the laboratory, just tap the third stone from the floor twice to reveal the entrance. Myrtle may very well be there when you do... You'll need her to guidance to access the entrance. Oh— and mind the vanishing step, Mr. Nott." McGonagall said with a faint whisper of a smirk on her thin lips. "—stay alert!"

"Thank you Professor!" Hermione said quickly and before she knew it her and Theo were off again.

It was strange to be able to hear her own footsteps along with Theo's echoing along the halls when only moments ago the sounds of battle were ringing so loud she could hardly think.

"Wait here." Theo said as they came to the end of the corridor. He poked his head around and then disappeared deep into the hall.

Hermione waited anxiously for a few moments, scanning the halls around her. She could faintly hear the rumbling of battle, there was a long howl piercing the air and she knew it must be midnight.

Relief flooded through her at the sound of Theo's faint whisper telling her the coast was clear. She shoved from the wall and moved quickly to his side where he knelt on the floor before a seemingly empty wall. Behind them hung the blank tapestry with silver lining.

"Who is it! I'm not letting anyone in!" A feminine voice shrieked from the other side, "—I can practically smell all the blood and I'm dead! What's going on out there?'

Hermione tried to hide her agitation for the ghost who had just poked her head through the wall. But Theo stepped forward, surprising Hermione with how calm he seemed.

"It's just me, Myrtle. How are you? Must be frightened by all the noise."

Hermione glanced sideways to see Theo giving the ghost a very obnoxiously charming smile, his eyes holding a particular allure that would stop anyone in their tracks— unless that someone were Hermione Granger. She huffed in annoyance.

"Theo. We don't have time—"

"Oh Theo!" Myrtle whined, cutting Hermione's agitated whisper off and suddenly the ghost was out in the hall with them, placing her head on his shoulder, sobbing. "It's been awful. I'm terrified to leave my toilet. It's all so violent sounding out there and I just didn't know what to think—" As if just realizing Hermione was standing with him, Myrtle straightened and glared at her, "What's she doing here?"

Hermione opened her mouth to shout at the foolish ghost for wasting their time, but Theo was quicker, waving a hand loftily in Hermione's direction, his fingertips almost brushing her cheek as he did so. Hermione had to repress the urge to shove him.

"Oh don't mind this one. She's just a bit scared, same as you. Though who can blame you? Must be miserable being in there all alone..." Theo stepped closer to the ghost and Myrtle almost appeared to be blushing, if ghosts could blush, that is. Hermione wanted to gag. "Actually, I was hoping she and I could get through and perhaps join you in the laboratory. There's something we need inside."

Myrtle sighed. "Of course you didn't just come to see me. People never come just to see me... it's always something to do with them—"

"That may very well be true, and for that I am truly sorry Myrtle, but as always, getting to see you is certainly an added bonus. I know I always enjoy our brief encounters, few though they may be, they certainly are..." Theo lowered his voice before adding, "...memorable."

Hermione didn't think that horrible lie could have possibly fooled anyone, but she may have been overestimating the ghosts desperate need for attention.

Myrtle inhaled a shaky breath, sighing dreamily as she inched closer to Theo's fluttering eyelashes and then looped backwards into the stone wall behind her, disappearing as a latched door appeared moments later.

Theo shot Hermione a proud smirk. Hermione lifted one brow as he shoved the door open and bowed, allowing her to step through first.

"After you, you're royal bushy-haired-ness."

Myrtle was giggling at Theo's remark as Hermione huffed again, shoving herself through the small door with Theo following after her. The door, once shut, evaporated until it was stone once more.

She was so concentrated on climbing the seven or so steps quickly that she nearly fell face forward— where the forth step should have been there was nothing and her foot dropped down as she tumbled forward. Theo's hand clamped around her elbow, balancing her just as quickly and nodded at the steps below them.

"Vanishing step." Theo smirked, "Forgot to mention."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"The world is ending, Granger." Theo said with a playful glint in his eyes. "Who knows how many more laughs I'll get. It doesn't hurt that you make it so easy."

"Oh, well then by all means—" Hermione grumbled as they ascended the rest of the steps. "—laugh away."

Once on the platform of the bathroom Hermione took in the familiar room. The large marble sinks sat near the middle of the room as moonlight trickled in through arched windows. The scattered burst of colorful lights from the battle outside seemed to jolt them both back into action. Hermione hurried to the sinks an das her eyes began scanning for the correct one, her heart sunk.

"Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh— how could I have been so thoughtless." Hermione muttered to herself. "I forgot that we needed Harry to get in!"

"Why on earth would you want to go down there?' Myrtle was asking as she hovered behind Theo, who promptly ignored her.

"What do you mean we need Harry?"

"You need to speak Parselmouth to unlock the Chamber—" Hermione brought both hands to her eyes covering them in frustration, "—oh, how could I have been so stup—"

Hermione was abruptly cut off as the sound of the unfamiliar language slipped from Theo's tongue, sounding almost exactly as it did whenever Harry spoke it, perhaps with even more ease.

She turned to stare at him, wide eyed, as he watched the sink begin to shift into separate pieces until it revealed the tunnel, the and the narrow slide dipping down into darkness.

"But— How— How did you—" She sputtered lamely.

Theo smirked over at her. "Did you know, Granger, that Purebloods parents— particularly a one Theodore Nott Sr.— place restrictionists on their children's academic curriculum?"

"Um— no." Hermione said still frowning at him as he lowered himself into a spitting position near the tunnel entrance.

"Specifically, restriction of any subjects including creatures or other breeds they deem beneath them or unworthy of studying; creature languages such as Parseltongue, Mermish, Gobbledegook included..." he shot a smug grin over his shoulder, "So, naturally, I learned them all."

Hermione blinked down at him, momentarily baffled at the wizard before her.

"Well, most of the basics anyway...embarrassed my father at a few of the gatherings he hosted. He stopped introducing me to potential recruits for the Dark Lord after awhile. Did you know that 'Hello' in Mermish sounds a lot like 'cock-suck-me-please' ? — Lady Yaxley spit her wine all over my fathers velvet curtains. It was my proudest moments as the sole heir of the house of Nott if I do say so myself."

"But that's— that's practically impossible without—"

"Determining the complicated statistical technique while also deciphering the most commonly-used phoneme to be able to translate them to the English language?"

"Well, um... Yes."

Hermione knew because she had read every book on Parsletongue, Mermish, and Gobbledegook she could find in the Hogwarts library. She knew how difficult and time consuming it would be to be able to study the languages at length they way it seemed Theo had— certainly more than two years for each language, possibly more. The only witch or wizard she knew who with such ability was Dumbledore, but he was a brilliant wizard and lived far longer than most, so it wasn't nearly as surprising.

Perhaps the most shocking of it all was that Theo was telling her he hadn't even been required to learn it, he simply did it out of spite for his father. _Rebellious learning. _It was comically absurd.

"Mind shutting your mouth Granger, you look entirely to impressed and it's giving me a complex. Merlin's balls, Is it really so surprising for a bloke to acquire a hobby or two?"

"Linguistics is not a hobby, Theo. It's a profession. Where on earth did you ever find the time?" She asked sitting opposite him eyeing the dark expanse below. She glanced up to see him frowning.

"Spent a lot of time alone in Nott Manor escaping from my father." His voice was a tad lower then. "I suppose I needed to pass the time. Also helps that I have a photographic memory."

Hermione gave him a soft smile. "Well, it was certainly useful and time well spent." She took a deep breath. "Let's get this part over with, yea?'

He nodded. "I'll go first."

She watched as he straightened his shoulders and paused, giving her a very meaningful look.

"If I die on the way down, tell Harry... he has a very beautiful cock."

Hermione let out an audible gasp as he shoved from the ledge and disappeared into the tunnel. She shook her head, suppressing the rising evidence of mortification from her face.

"He's right you know." Myrtle supplied, giggling above her. "I've seen it. Surprisingly not small at all and regal looking, really—"

"Oh— just— do not— that's so— I did not need to know that! Goodbye Myrtle!"

Hermione shoved off the ledge, no longer carrying if the darkness swallowed her whole, so long as she didn't have to listen to Myrtle speak ever again.

**_,!,!,!,!,_**

"Do you feel that?' Draco stopped abruptly as Harry followed closely behind him. The feeling of his magic whirling around inside his chest made him pause. He felt the wand in his hand begin to vibrate gently against his palm. His eyes darted around the dimly lit room, cluttered with stacks and stacks of forgotten or hidden items. This room had once been his haven for months, he was familiar with the sounds it made and the amount of magic swirling about, but something was different. Something felt... off.

He was reminded of the binding magic placed on him at the age of thirteen, the age an heir took claim to all that he was to inherit. There was a ritual and blood-binding contracts. His father's blood sealing his son's future with a single drop. That was the only time he felt his magic pulse within him as it was now. It was strange and wonderful and confusing. Draco tried to place the source of said magic, and felt his breath hitch as his vision began to play tricks on him.

There was a flash of an image, a very brief image, of long white-gold hair on a pale face, silver eyes and a firm set mouth floating towards him, almost like a mirage, or a hallucination. Draco blinked and then it was gone.

_Father?_

Draco took a tentative step forward, and then he sensed the whirling magic grow stronger, humming through his core and buzzing in his finger tips.

And then he heard his father's voice:

_Use it well, Draco..._

"What is it?' Harry asked, following Draco's gaze drift down to his pocket. Draco placed his hand over the heavy item that had not been there moments ago. Just as he went to reach for it the sound of laughter echoed around them. Draco abandoned the heavy weight in his pocket and lifted his wand, moving to stand near Harry.

The cackling laughter erupted again and Draco's mouth went dry.

"Hello darling nephew... or should I say traitor?"

Draco tried not to think what Bellatrix being in this room meant...

Had Voldemort sent her to retrieve the Horcrux before he and Harry could find it? His heart was pounding like a drum in his ears as she slowly stalked towards them, her black eyes settling directly on him. Draco's mind quickly worked through the several opening paths surrounding them, calculating which one would allow them the safest and furtherest away from Bellatrix. The other Death-Eaters seemed to be hovering near by, two rows back to on her right, waiting for Bellatrix to make the first move.

"Oh," Bellatrix continued, grinning maniacally, "—and you've delivered us Harry Potter. The Dark Lord may be pleased with you after all..."

Bellatrix stopped mid stride then, eyes widening in horror. Draco tensed as he realized where her heated gaze landed, his own fingers tightened around the wand in his hand. The smug look on her haunted features turned cold and ravenous before she began shouting.

"IS THAT MY WAND?! YOU— YOU STOLE MY WAND?!"

Draco was more aware of his Aunt's ticks than she gave him credit for. He spent several tireless lessons dueling, observing her, every movement he watched closely to know when she was about to attack.

He was already shielding the space around him and Harry as a bright red light darted through the air. Draco reached for Harry's arm, gripping tightly and yanking him along the path he mentally mapped out moments earlier among the disarray of the room. They both began sprinting, dodging the falling debris as the three Death Eaters chased after them, shooting curses to cause the stacks of clutter tumbling all around them.

"Remind me to murder Theo for making me take this bloody wand." Draco grumbled as they paused to catch their breath. He glanced around nervously, his eyes landing on the opposite end of the room where the entrance was. "We need to get out of this room."

"Not until we have the diadem." Harry said firmly.

"Fuck—" Draco grunted, glancing at the clear path to their safe exit before turning back to Harry and nodding. "—yeah, alright."

"Dracooooo." Bellatrix's voice was getting closer now.

"Come on!" Draco said, gripping Harry's arm and pulling him deeper into the stacks. They moved stealthily, avoiding any of the shattered mess with surprising agility.

Had Harry not been so completely focused on finding the diadem and not making a sound he would have been impressed with how deliberate Malfoy managed to sneak about the room, possibly even admitting how lethal of an Auror he would make.

Harry paused then, causing Draco to stop in his tracks. He whirled around to see Harry lifting his hand upward, fingers curling in the air as if reaching for something, shutting his eyes.

"It's close." He whispered, opening his eyes. "I can feel it."

Harry began moving towards whatever he 'sensed' and Draco quickly cast disillusionment charms over them both, hoping they would hold for long enough to find the diadem. Harry stopped after several winds and turns, pressing this fingers to his forehead and wincing. Draco followed where Harry was tilting his gaze to the left and quickly moved to the trunk he was pointing at. He lifted his wand and summoned the trunk, placing it down and kneeling over it.

"Keep a look out." He commanded and Harry shifted his stance, wand raised.

Draco fumbled with the latch and then lifted his wand when that didn't work.

"Alohomora."

Draco frowned when the trunk did little more than jiggle.

"Hurry!" Harry whispered over his shoulder. Bellatrix's voice was ringing out over the room, followed by low grunts of laughter from the other Death Eaters.

"Draaaaacoooo. Come out, come out, where ever you are." Bellatrix sang. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want to plaaaaaay."

Draco tried several more unlocking charms, severing charms and then relented into trying something a tad more drastic.

"Bombards Minima!"

The truck flung open, the top flying off the hinge. There was a loud hissing sound that pierced the air, coming from the sparking silver laying within, causing them both to cover their ears from the sheer force of it.

"They're here! Over here!" One of the man's booming voice came from their right, following by a burst of light hurdling towards them. Harry was ready this time, his wand already blocking it and sending an equally powerful hex right back.

Draco reached for the diadem and watched as the hooded figure flew backwards in the air, crashing into a glass mirror several yards away.

"Not bad." Draco muttered before shoving the diadem in Harrys hand and then began pulling him towards the entrance. "Now let's get the hell out of here—"

Draco's voice was suddenly cut off by the feeling of his entire body being lifted into the air. He struggled against the magic pulling him higher and higher. Below him Harry was searching for the caster of the spell. Draco felt his body begin to fall rapidly until he felt the stinging pain shock through him as he landed on his side his head knocking into one of the sharp edges of the clutter beneath him. His ears were still ringing as he forced his stiff arms to lift his weight. He was shaking and with every movement he felt the pain corse through his bones caused by the fall. He tried moving his shoulder and immediately heard a popping noise and let out a loud grunt.

As he struggled to right himself he was vaguely aware of Harry dueling a blur of black a few yards away. Harry fell to the ground and Draco quickly righted him. They both swayed a bit before Draco managed to gain his vision back.

"Watch out!" Draco shouted, diving sideways and knocking them both behind a large stack, barely avoiding the hex hurdling into the stacks behind them.

Draco lifted his wand, "CONFRINGO!"

The curse landed on the shoulder of the still masked Death Eater, causing his arm to rip right off his body. Draco heard the man let out a painful wail and fell to his knees, his wand hand still in use and casting hexes and jinks sporadically all around causing the stacks to begin to shake all around them. A bust of bright light shot from the tip of the Death Eater's wand and Draco knew the curse the moment the fire began to encompass one of the stacks.

"Fiendfyre!" Draco shouted to Harry as he shoved himself to his feet. Draco was about to do the same when he felt cold fingers gripping him around his neck, long nails digging into his skin, cutting off his ability to breath.

"I want. My wand. BACK!" Bellatrix shouted the last word and ripped the wand from Draco's grasp, shoving him forcefully his knees, her grip now viciously latching onto his already dislocated shoulder. She yanked his head up to force him to look forward, placing her wand beneath his jaw. "Ah- Ah- Harry Potter, I wouldn't if I were you."

Draco tried to catch his breath as his eyes landed on Harry. He was standing a few yards before them his wand aimed in their direction, the entrance just behind him. The heat of the fire was moving closer. He could feel it roaring and growing with each passing second.

"GO!" Draco grunted out. "JUST GO!" He tried again, but was immediately silenced as Bellatrix wand sent a curse straight into his throat.

The torture curse latched on to his neck, tightening his airway, he could focus on on nothing except the hot, sharp pain forcing its way down into his chest, settling there and expanding throughout his veins, bones, and across every inch of his skin. He felt as if someone where slicing their way through him from the inside out and back again, short, sharp cuts— one after the other— repeating and repeating— endless torture— Harry's form faded out of sight and then he could see nothing.

"STOP!" Harry's voice was a muffled whisper in the back of his mind. There was a loud blasting noise and then another. Bright lights of spells being sent towards where he slumped against his Aunt.

He heard Bellatrix cackling behind him, but her words didn't come out right. Harry was shouting something back at her. Draco focused on the dulling of the pain, the release of the curse only lasted a second before it returned with full force.

Draco knew it was coming this time. He was prepared. He forced his entire magical core to focus on his labyrinth, desperately hoping some part of it still existed, some part of it could help end his agony. Instead of relief, the pain only deepened until he was sure he was going to pass out.

Then the whirling force of magic curled inside his chest, the same sensation he felt earlier and he heard his father's voice in the empty hallow of his mind:

_Use it well, Draco..._

"RENNERVATE!"

Draco's eyes fell upon a panting Harry Potter, his face sweating with determination as he shoved something off of Draco's body that had fallen on him.

"COME ON! GET UP!" Harry shouted, forcing Draco to his feet. Draco swayed as blurs of the room came into focus. The stacks were falling all around them now, shaking and trembling, stack after stack. The fire was no longer at the back of the room but close enough to feel it's warmth. He glanced down to see Bellatrix shifting in the fallen debris, there was a weighted desk covering her lower half.

Draco stumbled backwards, dodging the clutter and forcing his stiff legs to move forward. He kept his eyes on the back of Harry's head, limping along after him. A large stack fell into their path, causing them both to stop abruptly.

"REDUCTO!"

The collection of scattered mess exploded into a million bits around them, Draco managed to lift a shield just in time before shards could get to either of them. Behind them the stacks continued to rumble and shake, threatening to encompass them if they didn't find another way out.

"This way!" Draco croaked, regretting it almost instantly as he felt he effects of his Aunt's curse still lingering in his throat. He led Harry deeper into the stacks until they found another clear opening. They both sprinted forward and as Harry lifted his wand, shouting another blasting spell the doors to the room swung open with an alarming force.

"HURRY!" Harry shouted, lurching forward. Draco took one step forward but couldn't take another, his right leg remained stuck in place. He tried again and felt the pull of magic on his leg. He glanced over his shoulder and saw his Aunt, her dress tattered and torn, blood dripping from a gash along her collarbone as fire roared behind her.

"GO!" Draco shouted to Harry. "Don't be a bloody hero twice, Potter! JUST GO!"

Harry hesitated. He glanced over Draco's shoulder to where Bellatrix was closing in on him, her wand holding Draco in place. He sent a series of hexes at her that she blocked with effortless ease, the grip on Draco's leg only strengthening.

"GET OUT OF HERE POTTER!" Draco shouted, ignoring the gripping pain on his throat. Another stack fell around them, debris landing between Draco and Harry, forcing Harry to back away quickly, completely out of the room now. Draco turned around to see Bellatrix lurching forward, the grip on his leg had loosened from her dropping her focus and he twirled out of her reach. He felt a stinging pain tear across his leg where the grip had once been, slicing through his skin.

"DRACO!" Harry was trying to force his way back in. Debris and falling clutter blasted in from the entrance.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" Bellatrix growled at Draco, forcing herself up. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU TRAITOR!"

_Use it well, Draco..._

Time moved too quickly then. Draco was aware of the continued debris falling around him, smoke curling into his lungs as the fire raged towards them. He was aware of the crazed, blood-lust filling his Aunt's eyes as she lifted her wand, pointing it directly at him as she shuffled towards him. He was aware of a loud blasting noise behind her and Harry's ruffled form emerged and a bright blue light left his wand, but what he was most aware of was the feel of cool silver against his fingertips as he shoved his hand into his pocket.

"AVADA—"

His magic whirled furiously like a tornado as he gripped the heavy silver and Bellatrix's came hurdling towards him, the killing curse curling off her lips and dying as ice seemed to consume her from the inside out, leaving her body frozen like a statue. Draco's fingers wrapped around the cool silver and he shoved it forward as her body continued to descend upon him, sharp silver plunged deep into her chest and her wide blinking eyes went blank.

_**,!,!,!,!,**_

They were standing at the end of a long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with statue serpents, stretching to the ceiling that was lost in the darkness above. The green tint of the gloomy atmosphere filled the place, reminding Theo a bit of his father's cellar where he kept his darkest artifacts. Theo was no stranger to dark magic, he could feel it buzzing around them as they strode deeper along the tunnels. The only sound accompanying them were the echos of Hermione's and his own shoes sloshing through the murky waters dripping from the pipes.

"What a charming place to keep a pet... Tom Riddle, the insightful nurturer. Who knew?" Theo mumbled sarcastically underneath his breath, shivering from the strange cold chill that creeped across the back of his neck. Hermione didn't seem to be in the mood for jokes, clearly as unsettled with going deeper through the tunnels.

"I think it's this way." Hermione whispered, taking a turn through a slightly brighter tunnel. Theo followed along after her, ducking to fit beneath the dip in the cave and stretching to his full height once on the other side. He froze in place as his eyes landed on the open chamber, pausing momentarily to take in the massive and dangerous corpse curled around circular chamber.

He shivered again, this time voluntarily.

He turned to say something to Hermione, but clamped his mouth shut as he noticed the witch wasn't there. She was already moving quickly towards the beasts mouth. He hurried to her side, kneeling beside her as she examined the sharp teeth protruding from the large snakes jaws. Theo stuck his head in slowly, glancing down the dark entrance of its mouth.

"Cozy." He commented.

"Would you like to do the honors?" She asked, eyeing the long teeth with mild repulsion. Now that Theo focused on it, there seemed to be a certain stench of death wafting around them.

Theo reached for the cloth she handed to him and quickly extended his arm towards the fang nearest to him and curled his hand around it, tugging it forcefully— and wincing as yellow fluid poured from it's hinges, covering both his and Hermione's shoes in the ghastly smelling fluid. They both stepped back quickly and then glanced at one another.

"That's not going to eat through our clothes and start eating our flesh or anything right?" Theo asked.

Hermione glanced down at her pants and then back at him. "No? But if you start to feel something itching between your legs later, don't blame it on the Basilisk."

Theo was in the process of turning on his heel when he glanced over at Hermione, a small smirk tugged on the corner of his lips.

"Was that an attempt at an lewd joke, Granger?"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Maybe."

"Cheeky cheeky." Theo shook his head fondly. "I like you. I guess I'll let you stick around after all."

Hermione rolled her eyes, grumbling sarcastically, "Now I've managed to make all my dreams come true..."

Theo decided to not comment on her sarcasm.

She kneeled down once they were far enough away from the Basilisk and reached into her bag. She placed the golden cup on the ground between them and inhaled a deep breath. "Ready?"

Theo cleared his throat and then nodded. Hermione stood to her feet and moved to stand behind him, her wand held tightly by her side.

"Remember— once you make contact move away as quickly as you can. Each ones different so there's no telling what will happen."

"Right—" Theo nodded again, gripping the fang tighter in his grasp. "—what's destroying a piece of the Dark Lords soul without a little thrill and excitement, eh?"

Hermione waited and prepared herself for the worst. She watched as Theo lifted the fang over his shoulder and then dropped his hand with so much force that it sent the golden cup spiraling across the wet floor on contact. Hermione reached for Theo, helping him to his feet as they hurried backwards away from the swirling black and green smoke rising from the shattered Horcrux.

"RUN!" Hermione shouted.

Theo turned on his heel without hesitating, sprinting after her as the sound of a thousand screams echoed around them. The entire chamber seemed to come to life, water rising all around them, dark and angry currents surging it forward, chasing them. Theo glanced over his shoulder to see the blur of smoke shifting into the shape of a giant snake's mouth, sharp fangs coming to life and closing in on them.

The screams continued to rise in volume, shaking the walls and piercing the air around them. He saw Hermione trip in front of him and quickly pulled her to her feet and shoved her off the platform into one of the dark tunnels, just barely missing the crash of all consuming water as it splashed into the floor, leaving a giant hole in the ground where it landed. The stone floor around it began vibrating with dark magic, pulling everything within the chamber into it. Theo pulled Hermione to her feet.

"WE HAVE TO KEEP GOING!" He ushered her through the tunnels, not knowing which way to go through the heavy darkness. He could heard the screams echoing behind him, getting closer. Theo glanced behind him to see the floor was disappearing into darkness. The chamber was going to swallow itself from the impact from the Horcrux. He turned down another tunnel, grabbing Hermione's hand and yanking her with him. His heart stopped as his eyes found a slither of light peaking through the shadows. He shoved his feet forward, faster, and faster until he could no longer feel the burning in his limbs or the heavy weight of Hermione as she seemed to go limp at his side.

"HERMIONE!" He pulled her up to see her eyes fluttering close. "SHIT— SHIT— SHIT— SHIT—"

He glanced frantically in the darkness, the floor seemed to be disappearing all around them.

"THEO!"

Mrytle's high pitched voice echoed from the left and without another thought he tossed Hermione over his shoulder and wadded through the damp tunnels.

"THEO— THIS WAY—"

Suddenly, there was a bright light radiating from Hermione's skin. He didn't stop to examine it, but the glow managed him to see something else in the distance. Across the tunnel, a few yards ahead he could just make out the transparent ghost hovering in the small hole.

He felt the heat of the glow radiating under Hermione's skin as he held onto her tighter, shuffling forward until he could see the entrance to the bathroom again. He pulled out his wand just in time to lift Hermione's body safely to the platform above. His knees began to shake form the ground collapsing in on itself beneath him and quickly climbed the shaking walls. His foot slipped as he struggled to find his footing and hung in suspense. His hands were cramping from where they were barely keeping him from falling into the darkness below. He could feel his fingers slipping with how much he was sweating, his fingernails bending as he dug them into the stone. With one final effort he used the last of his strength to pull his weight up, his shoulders straining and trembling as he heaved himself up. His hip scrapped the side of the jagged edge, tearing through his clothes and leaving a trail of blood in it's wake. He felt his body collapse against the cool tile and with the last of the working part of his brain sent a barrier spell over the gaping hole, sealing the entrance. He tossed his head back against the cool tile, breathing heavily, as the sounds of the stone crumbling began to fade beneath them.

"Is she dead?' Mrytle's very calm and slightly disinterested voice pulled him out of his minor shock enough to realize that Hermione was laying completely still next to him. He crawled over to her quickly, his eyes scanning her body for whatever injury caused her to go unconscious. Her body was warm and glowing? He thought he had been imagining it in the tunnel, but it was actually glowing!

"Granger!" He placed his hands on her shoulder, shaking gently, when he saw no cuts or blood. "Granger! Granger! Wake up!"

"I think she might be dead." Myrtle sighed. "Oh well. You'll have to move her body. I'm not sharing my bathroom with _her—_"

"OH SHUT IT WILL YOU!" Theo shouted at the ghost and lowered his ear to Hermione's mouth. He sagged in relief as he felt the faintest breath on his skin.

"THAT'S THE THANKS I GET!" Myrtle was crying, but Theo hardly paid attention as he focused on Hermione's face. She was wincing now. Her eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Oh— for fuck's sake Granger." Theo sighed, lifting her head gently with his left hand. "Pick a better time to pass out why don't you?"

Theo stopped talking immediately as he watched the veins near her neck and along her arm begin to pulse with the same bright light from the tunnel, vibrant and unnatural.

"Theo—" she croaked, "—somethings— somethings happening— the curse—"

Theo struggled to hold her head up as her entire body began to shake.

"What do I do?" He asked frantically. He tried to remember what Draco did when her curse began to take over her veins. "_Fuck_— What do I do?"

Hermione's entire body shot forward, and that's when Theo realized that the curse wasn't curling in black ink beneath her skin, it wasn't consuming her veins, but leaving them, illuminating on their path towards her forearm. It never did that before.

"I think—" Hermione gasped as the brilliant light seemed to glow along every inch of her skin where her veins connected. There was a warm tingling of magic radiating off her skin and Theo watched as the bright light seemed to flow through her and out her forearm in waves, pulsing and pulsing, flashing in spurts with every wave, until there was nothing left. Where her scar once lay carved into her pale skin there was nothing but smooth porcelain. The jagged letters, just like the floor of the Chamber, disappeared before his very eyes.

"I think it's gone." She whispered in amazement, blinking down at her forearm. She wasn't shaking anymore as she traced her fingers over her skin, as if she was waiting for them to return at any moment.

"Bloody hell." Theo muttered, watching as she checked the rest of her arm and smiling to find it completely clear too.

"It's— It's gone." Hermione laughed in disbelief and looked up at Theo. "Theo— it doesn't hurt anymore. It doesn't hurt. I don't— I don't know how, but— but it's gone. It's really gone!"

Theo hardly had time to register that Hermione had flung herself towards him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him into a gripping embrace. He allowed his shoulders to relax after a moment and curled his arms around her, shaking his head in disbelief too. As soon as he got over his shock though he couldn't help but smirk.

"Damn, I'm good."

He half expected Hermione to be glaring at him when she pulled away, but instead she was smiling, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"You're quite heavy you know." Theo added as the moment stretched and began to feel a little too 'rainbow and butterflies' for his liking.

Hermione shook her head. "Come on. Let's go find our boys."

"Our boys." Theo repeated, helping her to her feet. "Our boys, hm... I like that."

Hermione glanced down at her arm again, frowning in confusion.

"Don't know why you're so surprised." Theo said as they found the hidden passage and descended the stairs and stopped a the hidden door that appeared as Theo touched his wand to the third stone from the bottom. "I'm fairly certain by now that you're invincible, Granger."

Hermione smiled at him. "Yeah..." She nodded, slightly breathless and squared her shoulders, a determined glint flooding behind her brown eyes. "Yeah. I'm feeling pretty invincible." She nodded to the door, lifting her wand before her. "We're going to win this. I can feel it. Harry was right."

Theo tried not to wince at the thought of Harry and nodded, giving Hermione his most confidant smile. "Let's go remind him, shall we?"

Hermione nodded and Theo shoved the door open and they sprinted through the castle, closer and closer to the sounds of battle, in search for their boys.

**_,i,!,i,!_**

**A/N: Hello! Hello! I am still here. I haven't abandoned you all. I apologize for the wait and promise to push out the next chapter by the end of the week! **Thank you for everyone whose still here. I am so grateful for every review I've received even as I haven't been updating as regularly. Your reviews have helped me force myself to focus on pushing out the rest of this story for you all as quick as possible so keep them coming! Life has been HELLASTRANGE and I'm just trying to survive and all that jazz... so your patience is appreciated 3 Hope everyone is well and happy and thriving and stuffffff!


	29. Daggers & Dark Hours (pt II)

**Chapter Playlist: **

_ . _

_As it Was : Hozier _

_Drown : Seafret /Follow You : Bring Me The Horizon _

_[**I always think these two songs perfectly sum up Theo feelings for Harry**]_

_Sarabande (remixed) : Samuel Karl Bohn _

_Take on the World : You Me at Six_

_Courtyard Apocalypse : Alexandre Desplat_

_As the World Caves In : Matt Maltese_

**_,i,i,i,i,!,!,!,!,i,i,i,!_**

Narcissa Malfoy was aware that she was not meant to be doing what she was currently doing. She shouldn't have risked it. Voldemort had commanded her to remain by his side at the Forrests edge to await the Boy Who Lived.

In a sense, she remained standing some yards away from the Dark Lord and the few of his followers he recruited to remain by his side as the war waged on. To any on-looker her body was silently watching along with them, hiding in the shadows, celebrating a false victory she knew was not to come. Though her body stood within the shadows, near the back of their small group waiting, her mind had not. Her mind had drifted into the chaos moments ago, drifting down the dark hill and floating across the vast expanse of land towards the scattered bodies and blasting of hexes and the unbearable aroma of death.

Her magic wavered within her, weakening with every passing second she projected her mind forward, but she did not pull back. She had to know. She had to see for her self that her son was alive.

Her mind detached itself from her body, a rare practice of magic similar to that of temporarily duplicating ones spirit, extending it and placing an invisibility cloak around it, allowing the casters consciousness to temporarily be in two places at once. Dark magic, yes, very dark magic and not meant to be practiced so thoughtlessly as it could cost one their life, but Narcissa Malfoy could wait no longer.

Her detached form, invisible to those fighting around her, waded through chaotic eruption of battle, shifting her way through the crowd unscathed and untouched, but she had already seen this battle play out. She knew the ending as well as she knew it's middle and beginning. As her detached self filtered through the roars of pain and death, she could remain nothing but a calm bystander.

The scene around her mirrored the bright colorful strokes on her canvas' that lay tucked away safely in her home, each stroke a reflection of each spell cast from the wands of those around her now. To her left she knew a troll would fall to its death as it fell off the cliffs edge, just as she knew to her right a Death Eater would find his victory in the cries of an unfortunately young student. Her eyes were blind to it all, blind to everything in place for what she was desperate to see.

There was no mistaking her visions of the future now. There was no mistaking that all around her she was encompassed in the overwhelming atmosphere of a war coming to its end.

She couldn't allow her detached self to remain for much longer. She could sense it already retreating back into her tangible form. She searched faster for the familiar tall form and bright blonde hair, so like his fathers, but she found him no where; not amongst the rubble, nor transfixed in a duel. Narcissa did not see him amongst the fallen bodies either. She would have to let that be enough for now. A bright flash of light left Minerva McGonagall's wand and four Death Eaters met their death along the cliffs edge, tumbling down into darkness.

That was the last thing she saw before her detached self returned to her true self and she was standing in the shadows of the Forrest once more.

Her magic flickered dangerously within her, weakening from the effects of the dark spell. She leaned on a tree next to her, attempting to catch her breath. She felt eyes on her from somewhere up ahead. She lifted her gaze to see the Antonin Dolohov watching her, his head tilted as he watched her quickly straighten herself. Narcissa was never one to show a weakness. He held her stare for a moment before turning around as if it had never happened.

A strangled cry escaped Voldemort and suddenly everyone in their small group surged forward to his side. Narcissa remained where she was, watching with detached interest. She shut her eyes and images flashed behind her eyes...

_A ring—_

_A diary—_

_A locket—_

_A golden cup—_

_A diadem—_

_Nagini—_

_A golden cup_, the image of it begin sliced in two blazed wickedly behind her eyelids before she opened them again. She refrained herself from smiling, her lips twitched from the small excitement she felt fluttering inside her chest.

Voldemort was yelling at the followers who darted to his side, some being blasted backwards and landing several yards away, wincing and grunting in pain. Voldemort began walking away from the group, leaning over Nagini, speaking to her in a hushed whisper none of them could translate.

Narcissa felt Antonin's eyes turn to her once more, his eyes widening in shock as he glanced at the other followers who seemed to be paying her no mind, their attention solely focused on their leader, hovering hesitantly behind him.

Antonin crept towards her. Narcissa instinctively took a step backwards, but then realized what he was starring at and forced herself to refrain from releasing a loud gasp.

She glanced down to the scar etched just above her collarbone where her sisters dagger cursed her all those months ago. She could feel her veins warming with a sensation she had never felt before. This was nothing similar to the unbearable pain that normally pierced through her from the curse, no, this was no pain at all, but relief.

She felt her knees begin to shake with the inability to keep her upright and then she felt warm hands on either side of her elbows, pulling her backwards deeper into the shadows.

Her vision was blurring in and out, brightness continued to expand from the place just beneath her collar bone in waves. Antonin's face was hovering before her, lowering her to the ground, his mouth set in a firm grimace. The glow escaping her veins flashing over his sharp features as he began muttered something, a spell? A containment spell? A protective barrier spell?

It was as if he was keeping the light from escaping the small area around the two of them, keeping them hidden from the other Death Eaters only yards away.

Narcissa felt her skin pulling tight, closing over the gap caused by the dagger. She ran her fingers over the now smooth skin, blinking in confusion up at the dark haired wizard pulling away from her with a ferocious gleam in his glare.

"I kept my word." Antonin spat. "Lucius better have kept his. The Dark Lord is to never hear of this."

And without any more explanation he pulled his mask back over his face and quickly retreated back to the small group near the edge of the Forrest.

Narcissa quickly shuffled to her feet, her heart hammering in her chest.

_Lucius_...

_Was he the cause of this?_

_Could the curse truly be gone?_

Narcissa tried to rationalize the possibility in her mind. Hadn't she predicted all that was to happen. She had seen it all, so why hadn't she predicted this? Why hadn't she predicted Lucius capable of keeping his word to protect her?

**_At what cost?_**

She felt her breath hitch, a lump forming in her throat and lifted her fingers to her trembling lips.

_Lucius_...

Had she really written him off so easily?

_'You cannot carry on hating me, my love... not with our ending so near and my madness ever impending. It's entirely selfish of you.'_

She could hear his voice plain as her own echoing within the boundaries of her fortified mind, its familiar yet distant warmth dripping into the crevices of her fragile heart. She remembered scoffing at his words, berating him for thinking so little of her affections for him. She had told him as much, hadn't she? She forced herself to remember her response from that night he found her walking through their hedged gardens as she thought of her son— she was desperate to remember her response, she told him how much she cared, hand't she?

Suddenly her response came to her like being resurrected from the dead:

_Every atom of your flesh is as dear to me as my own: in pain and sickness it would still be dear to me. Your mind is my treasure, and if it were to break, it would be my treasure still: if you go mad Lucius, you will not find the release of death at the hand of our Dark Lord, but you will find my arms confined around you— your touch, even in my fury, will always have a charm for me. It is this truth that proves to be my deepest joy and my greatest mistake._

Her words were laced with a bitterness cruel as venom, but they also held the deafening truth she hoped he could understand. But now...

She ran her fingers across the healed skin once more, firmly shutting her eyes, feeling her breath force itself from her chest as it tightened and coiled until she wondered if she were breathing at all.

How could she have promised that to him? She promised that even in his madness he would fine her arms waiting for him there? The words were true, but they were a promise they both knew she wouldn't keep.

His absence weighed heavier on her shoulders now. She did not think him capable of deserting her, no matter what the others had so rudely implied when he did not appear after the Dark Lord summoned them. But she was now more at a loss than ever trying to imagine what he _was_ doing.

She desperately wanted to demand Antonin to explain further, to tell her where her husband was, why he hadn't shown, but she knew better. Instead she straightened her shoulders and focused all of what was left of her self control to empty her mind of such thoughts. She couldn't concern herself with her husbands decisions. She refused to concern herself with them for they made her weak, vulnerable, and right now she needed to be strong.

She needed to keep going...

For their son.

_For Draco._

She took a firm step forward, standing next to Antonin, her expression blank.

_For Draco._

**_i,!,i_**

Hermione was still filled with an unusual amount of adrenaline after escaping the Chamber with Theo. They were sprinting through the halls, racing up stairs in hopes to find Harry and Draco.

Though her lungs were burning from the effort, her legs felt loose and more agile. Her entire body felt lighter, and more powerful than she had in weeks. She could sense her magic crackling inside her, begging to be released now that the curse was no longer clotting her blood. It was as if parts of her magic had been suppressed over the last few months, buried somewhere and building over time, and now that her veins were no longer tainted it was surging like an electric current within her.

Theo was just ahead of her, sprinting down the last corridor before they could see the Room of Hidden Things.

There was a loud sound of large metal doors colliding against a stone wall. Theo paused for only a moment, glancing over his shoulder at Hermione, before taking off at an even faster speed, turning around the corner. She raced after him, almost skidding across the floor as she turned the corner.

Her eyes landed on Harry shuffling out of the room off balanced as he shoved Draco's battered body off his shoulder, and they both fell to the ground. Hermione didn't hesitate as she ran to their side, kneeling over Draco as Theo helped Harry to his feet. She could hardly calculate how many injuries Draco had as her focus was immediately brought to the largest wave of fire she had ever seen hurdling towards them.

If anyone asked her later how she managed to think of it, she would have summed it up to pure adrenaline.

"THEO!" She shouted. "THE BASILISK FANG! USE IT ON THE DIADEM!"

Theo must have been already thinking the same thing because he was already moving to the entrance of the room, crouched over the diadem as the fire flooding towards them.

"Harry! The doors!" She shouted as she stood to full height, lifting her wand and aiming at the large door to her right. "Help me close them!"

The sound that came from the diadem as Theo pierced it with the fang was not as loud as the last time, but it still left them all flinching. Hermione saw the fire closing in, inches away from Theo crawling backwards, the doors barely open as a dark fog darted out of the diadem. She and Harry were still trying to close the doors when she saw a blur of someone shuffle past her.

Draco darted forward, and with one forceful kick, he sent the diadem and the fog laced with dark magic soaring into the raging flames. The terrible cry intensified as the flames engulfed it, forcing them all to their knees. The sound of the large metal doors shutting echoed in the empty hall and then all was silent.

Hermione moved quickly from where she fell and kneeled beside Draco. His arm was laying uselessly by his side at an odd angle and blood was trickling down the left side of his body from forehead to torso. Draco's eyes were shut tight as he lay flat on the ground.

"...the Cruciatus... dropped him and hit his head... I think he dislocated his shoulder." Harry was explaining what happened as he tried to catch his breath and moved beside her to help look over Draco's injuries. Hermione was forcing her trembling hands from shaking too much as she checked Draco over for fatal injuries.

Hermione had already started healing the gash along his forehead and sent a grateful glance to Theo as he helped Draco swallow a few healing potions. Once she did as much as she could with magic she quickly scanned through her limited knowledge of muggle healing techniques. Thankfully, she had been a rather adventurous tomboy as a child and her parents had to set her shoulder on multiple occasions.

She sighed and met Harry's worried gaze, "We'll need to set his shoulder."

"Hermione?" Draco croaked.

Hermione couldn't help the smile stretch over her face.

"Yes. I'm here." She placed her hands gently on either side of his arm and nodded at Harry who lifted Draco's arm to straighten it. Draco winced. "This is going to hurt okay, but only for a second."

"Bite this." Harry suggested, shoving a piece of fallen wood he found on the ground towards Draco's mouth. Draco's eyes opened slightly and he glared at Harry, his nose scrunching in distaste for even suggesting he put something so repulsive near his mouth.

"BITE ME, POTT—AHHHHHHHHHHH!" Draco lurched forward, lifting his entire back off the ground and twisted until he was facing Harry.

"For fuck's sake—" Harry scurried backwards, just hardly avoiding the fluid that was now leaving Draco's mouth.

Hermione grimaced at Harry and began gently soothing Draco, rubbing her hand over his back as she used her other hand to numb his shoulder with her wand as best she could.

"Feel better?" She asked as Draco turned over and laid his head back, his eyes were shut as he nodded, but his breathing was much more steady. She noticed his hands were still shaking from the effects of the torture curse. Her stomach coiled at the sight. She lifted her fingers to remove some of the dried blood and dirt from his forehead.

"What about the cup? Is it—" Harry asked eagerly.

"Yes. It's gone too." Hermione answered as she lift a bottle of water to Draco's lips. He sat up slowly, flinching from what she assumed was abdominal pain. Theo handed him a few more potions.

"And you're both alright?" Harry was glancing from Hermione to Theo, she just realized then that his hand was covering Theo's where it lay between them, squeezing it tight enough to make his knuckles white, as if he was determined to never let go for fear of it disappearing at any moment.

Theo shrugged, "If by alright you mean nearly dying and somehow managed to survive due to some unknown force that we haven't the time to explain, then yeah. Me and Granger faired pretty well." Theo glanced at Draco, "—well better than this git anyway."

Draco went to lift his arm to punch Theo, but immediately thought better of it, instead he cradled his hand over his stomach.

"Besides Granger's got a deal with the Grim Reaper, couldn't have died if we wanted to." Theo added.

"What did you mean?' Harry asked.

Hermione felt her mouth curl into a large grin as she reached to the end of her sleeve and pulled it back, revealing the smooth, uncut flesh. Draco was the first to reach out, his injuries no longer relevant as he forced his entire body up and on to his knees. His face went blank.

"The curse." She explained, a small laugh escaped her. "It's gone. While we were escaping the Chamber it just— it just started glowing and now it's completely gone."

She saw the corner of Draco's mouth twitch even as his brows remained pulled tight.

"Hermione..." He whispered in mild disbelief. His grey eyes lifted to her face as his fingers curled around her forearm.

"What do you mean it started glowing?" Harry asked, breaking their heated trance. Hermione blushed, but she still felt Draco staring at her as she glanced at Harry.

"She means it was literally _glowing_." Theo answered. "Like casting 'lumos' but, you know, in her veins."

Harry frowned and then glanced at Draco who was reaching into his pocket. They all looked down at the silver dagger as he placed it on the ground. Hermione felt her heart race at seeing the familiar weapon, the tip was drenched in a fresh crimson stain.

"It's the twin dagger of the one Bellatrix used for the curse. The one my father had with him that night before we broke into Gringotts." Draco said slowly, as if still trying to work out how Hermione's skin no longer held the curse. "He said he was going to use it to save my mother..."

"Lucius?' Theo asked, slightly mystified. "How did you get it then?"

Draco shook his head, a small laugh fell from his lips as he frowned at Hermione's arm. "I have no idea. It just— It just appeared."

Harry reached for the dagger to examine it. "When?"

"When we entered the Room of Hidden Things— no, when— well, when Bellatrix found us."

Harry glanced from the dagger to consider Draco for a moment. He frowned, "— you used it on her, didn't you? Right after I cast the body binding curse—"

"She landed on the blade—" Draco confirmed. "—straight through her chest."

"That Lucius..." Theo muttered, shaking his head fondly. "That Lucius is a wild card. Insane bastard."

" Yeah... Yeah, 'suppose so." Draco smirked at him, though he still seemed in shock. His hand never left Hermione's arm, she could feel his fingers tracing the skin there as if he was waiting for the scar to return.

"Draco!" Hermione shifted onto her knees then and reached for his hand and gripping it tightly, smiling like a mad woman. "What if all it took was using the twin dagger on the person who wielded the original? Remember that chapter in _Defensive Magical Theory_? The chapter covering blood magic placed on cursed objects?" Hermione didn't wait for him to respond as she recited the text word for word, "Objects can be cursed, but when duplicated, or mirrored by someone with the same blood—"

"— then that object can be destroyed by using it to kill the person who created it." Draco finished for her, suddenly sounding short of breath.

"If he meant for it to save your mother— Your father must have known!" Hermione shook her head in disbelief, "That must have been what he was doing that night we broke into Gringotts! He must have—"

Draco shot to his feet, he swayed slightly, his gaze still on the dagger.

Hermione, Harry, and Theo slowly rose with him. Theo steadied him by placing his arm around his waist.

"MINK!"

All four of them heard the familiar sound of a 'pop' behind them and turned to see the slightly battered elf.

"MASTER DRACO!" The elf shrieked.

She was in her usual attire, dirt-stained pillow case and thin knitted fabric for shoes, but with the addition of a makeshift helmet of what appeared to be half of a watermelon with two holes allowing her pointy ears to stick out on each side. In her left hand she gripped firmly on a small kitchen knife, which she quickly dropped to rush over to Draco, clinging to his leg as she began to shed an endless stream of slopping wet tears.

"Mink! Mink, listen!" Draco patted the elf's back awkwardly trying to flick the creature off his leg without hurting her feelings. Harry glanced over at Hermione, one amused eyebrow lifted.

"OH MASTER DRACO IS HURT!" Mink wailed. "MINK MUST HEAL MASTER DRACO."

There was a warm glow around Draco's abdomen and he seemed to stand taller, his hands no longer trembling from the after effects of being tortured.

"Wait— Mink have you been fighting?" Theo asked suddenly, glancing from the small kitchen knife to the elf's makeshift helmet that was dripping watermelon with every small movement of her head.

"Mink has been with the kitchen elves." Mink said firmly, her voice taking on a deeper tone that would have been adorable if not for how serious the situation was. "It is an honor to fight with friends."

"Listen to me, Mink. I need you to do something for me." Draco kneeled in front of the elf, placing his hands firmly on either side of her shoulders. The elf was trying to control her breathing long enough to listen, nodding vigorously.

"Mink will do anything for Master. What is Master needing?"

"Mother and father. I need you to find them, but you can't be seen!" Draco said quickly. "You have to be very careful. Can you do that for me?"

"Mink will be careful!" The small elf jumped towards Draco, wrapping her arms around his neck. Draco simply patted her back, trying to suppress the small smile threatening to form on his face. Mink took a firm step back, summoning her kitchen knife and squaring her shoulders. "Mink is happy that Master Draco is safe." Mink glanced over her shoulder at Hermione and nodded, "—and that the angry witch who asks Mink all the questions is no longer hating Master."

Hermione felt her face flush as Theo and Harry snorted.

"Go on then. Stay in the shadows. Find me as soon as you know something." Draco stood to his full height and with another 'pop' Mink disappeared, leaving behind small ruminants of watermelon on the stone floor.

Hermione moved to Draco's side, lacing her fingers with his and placing a quick kiss to his cheek. "She's going to find them."

Draco nodded, "I know."

"One horcrux left, right?" Theo asked solemnly. "Suppose we should get to it."

Hermione glanced over to see Harry pressing his the heel of his hand to his scar. "It's with him. Whatever it is Voldemort has it close. I think he's near the edge of the Forrest. Let's go."

Before any of them could question him, he was already taking off at a sprint down the hall.

**_!,i,!_**

As they sprinted through the castle, the sounds of battle grew louder and louder, humming in Harry's ears along with the searing pain pulsing where his scar lay. Ignoring the burning sensation was easily done, almost like a reflex by now. The chaos that ensued as they finally made it to the first floor made the pain practically disappear.

He felt someone tug him to the side as Professor McGonagll surged forward, her wand stretched above her head. Her green robes bellowed majestically around her as she surged forward; half of her face was covered in spattered blood, her hair sprung loose from it's usual tight bun, cascading over her wide, determined eyes.

Harry felt Theo's arm wrap around his waist, pulling him backwards into his chest as they flattened against the wall. They both watched in utter amazement as a the herd of school desks followed behind their Headmistress. The desks were transfigured into half school desks, half ravenous dogs, nipping and biting and whimpering as they followed behind McGonagall at top speed.

One of the desks tumbled forward nearly knocking into Draco before Hermione reached for him and saved him from the snapping jaws of the stray desk.

"CHARGE!" McGonagall's voice boomed across the halls, and the herd of desk-dogs sprung into attack mode, taking down several death eaters and a few absurdly large spiders. Had the moment not been so tense, Harry would have found the shocked expressions on the Death Eaters faces comical.

"Well I can't say I was expecting to see that before I die, but I can definitely say that I am glad that I did." Theo murmured, releasing his arm from around Harry. "McGoogly is right fierce for a woman pushing ninety!"

"McGonagall has only just turned seventy-three!" Hermione protested, joining Harry and Theo as they jogged through the halls. "Show some respect."

Hermione ducked under a spell and twirled around and thrust her wand upward.

"BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"

Harry glanced over his shoulder to watch as her spell blasted the ceiling some ways behind them, the stone exploded and fell on top of three large spiders Harry hadn't even known where following them.

They carried on like this, twisting through the crowds of the halls, dodging hexes and spells. Harry reached for the back of Theo's collar, gripping it tight and yanking him backwards just as a spell zipped across the hall, barely missing him by an inch. Theo's eyes were wide as he glanced over his shoulder at Harry, then a smirk tugged on his lips, his chest rising and falling quickly.

"My hero."

Harry, despite his heart nearly beating so fast that he could hardly think straight, he smiled and released his hold on Theo's shirt to grip his hand and pulled him across the gap in the hall to join where Hermione and Draco were now squatting against the wall.

"We need to get out of the castle." Hermione said between heavy breaths. "It's too crowded here."

Harry nodded. He glanced over his shoulder, peaking around the corner to see several bright lights soaring all about, his gaze never landed on one particular duel or the other. They all seemed to be blurring together.

"We can head through the hidden passage near the Great Hall. It will spit us out right near the side of the courtyard by Trelawney's office." Theo suggested.

Hermione blinked at him, "Do I even want to know how you came across that information?"

Theo simply shot her a wink, and shoved away from the wall, heading in the opposite direction they came. Harry followed after him as Draco and Hermione trailed along.

Theo sent two consecutive stunning hexes at the back of two Death Eaters, lifting their bodies from where they were blocking a hidden latch in the wall. Theo waved his wand over the stone and the latch opened.

"If we survive this Theodore Nott—," Hermione was saying as they all squeezed into the passage. "—I am demanding you show me every secret passage in this castle."

"If we survive?" Theo scoffed, steadily moving quicker. "Who gave you the permission to be pessimistic?"

"Malfoy must be rubbing off on her."

They all froze at the sound of the feminine voice at the other end of the tunnel. Ginny's head was barely visible as it peaked into the small exit.

"Weaslette." Draco hummed in acknowledgment.

"Hello Ferret." She chimed happily, stepping aside to let them jump from the ledge into the hall.

"He rubbed something off on her alright." said Blaise Zabini as he reached out to help Hermione hop off the ledge. She landed firmly on the ground with Draco following after, promptly reaching out to smack a laughing Blaise over the head, who easily dodged the blow and continued scanning over the four of them. "I see you lot have had your close brush with death more than once."

The battle sounds weren't as loud on this side of the castle, but Harry knew they were closer to Voldemort. His scar was burning with more intensity.

"You've looked better yourself, Zabini." Draco reached out to pull him into a quick embrace. "Pansy?"

Blaise's expression went a shade darker. "It was a lot on her— with tonight being the Full, but Remus and Pomfrey were able to keep her alive long enough to get enough wolfsbane in her system. We'll know the extent of the damage in the morning."

"Not to sound insensitive—" Ginny interrupted, "—but we've still got a war to win."

Harry was grateful for the interruption and quickly started towards the courtyard. They were still a few halls away when they heard Seamus' distinct laughter coming from up ahead.

"Is that all ye got, ol' timer? Yu'll hav'ta do better than tha—"

Seamus' came into full view then, he was dueling what appeared to be several people at the other end of the hall that they couldn't see. For every hex Seamus sent, three more came back, with just enough time to cast a shield charm. He was steadily being backed into a corner.

"Come on!" Hermione said, "He needs our help!"

"Oi— HANDS OFF!" Seamus shouted suddenly sounding a bit angrier. He was moving forward now, disappearing around the corner, casting several strong curses in a row. Harry had never seen him cast anything with that much focus before, not without causing something to explode.

As they rounded the corner they saw two Death Eaters laying on the floor, knocked out, a third cowering backward with Dean in his grasp.

"I SAID HANDS OFF SLIMEBALL! THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND! GET YER OWN!" Seamus grunted, raising his wand to point it at the man gripping Dean by the collar. The man was shot back with so much force he flew through the air and smashed into the stone, falling to a heap on the floor.

"Really?" Dean tilled his head, slightly breathless, a wide grin on his face. "Boyfriend?"

Seamus shrugged. "Yeah?"

Dean nodded, "Cool."

"Oi— Harry!" Seamus called over to them, as if just now realizing they had an audience. "You lot look like shit."

"Have you looked in a mirror Finnegan?" Blaise countered, laughing as Seamus frowned and started twirling around in search for a mirror as he patted his hair down, only for it to bounce back up again.

There was a loud cracking sound to their right and all heads turned to the source of it. A bright white light flashed followed by another loud crack, and another. Harry was the first to move towards the sound, stopping abruptly as glass fell from somewhere above them and shattered onto the stone floor. The courtyard was just around the hall and several footsteps could be heard coming their way.

Another crystal ball fell from above, crashing into one of the Death Eaters who came around the corner, the spell dying on his lips just as he began to shout it.

Everyone of them glanced up to see Professor Trelawney leaning over the upper level, waving her hands wildly with glee, her hair wild as ever and glasses slightly askew.

"I have more!" She shrieked. "More for any who want them! Here!"

Her large bushy hair disappeared from the ledge for a moment and then an enormous bag appeared when she returned. She heaved it on top of the ledge, settling it there and lifting her wand. In the blink of an eye hundred of tiny crystal spheres hovered in the air, then with a flick of her wrist the balls began to speed through the air and smash any Death Eater that rounded the corner the moment they laid eyes on Harry and his friends.

At that same moment the double doors on the opposite end of the hall flung off its hinges, revealing Ron, George, and Fred. Ron ducked as one of the spheres zoomed past him, nearly missing his right ear by an inch.

"Bloody hell—" Ron stood to his full height, smiling maniacally as his gaze landed on Harry and Hermione. "HARRY! 'MIONE!"

He began waving them over, urging them to duck behind one of the large doors. They all crouched beneath the door and glanced nervously at the twins who were now hovering on two brooms. Down the hall another swarm of Death Eaters were sprinting towards them.

"Oh this is going to be good." Ginny grinned up at her brothers.

"Right you are little sister," George smiled over at his brother hovering beside him, "—Ready Freddie?"

"Ready Georgie!"

Ron nudged Hermione's shoulder, lifting his hands to cover his ears. "Might want to—"

Before he could finish is sentence there were two loud cracks vibrating through the air. Everyone one of them flinched as the entire hall seemed to gleam in the dense purple glow that continued to pour from both Fred and George's wand as they both chanted:** "**_**Pix and Pox, form a lock to keep the uglies at bay! Turn and turn, evil-doers will learn, today is not their day! Pix and Pox to form a lock TO KEEP THE UGLIES AT BAY!"**_

The twins began to fly lower and closer to the large group of Death Eaters and then began circling them so quickly that Harry felt dizzy watching them. The group of Death Eaters were now all smushed together in the center of the hall, squirming as if there was an invisible barrier keeping them from lifting their arms and pushing them closer and closer until every inch of them were pressed against the other.

With two more resounding cracks from the twins wands, they began flying back to where Harry and the others were watching in utter bemusement as a George lurched his arm forward into the air and grabbed one of Trelawney's crystal spheres zipping around them and tapped it with his wand.

"Engorgio!" He muttered as he hovered the ball in the air, pausing for effect to smirk down at them. His gaze found Harry's and shot him a wink. "This one's for you Harry my boy! What'd will it be, Freddie?"

Fred grinned at his brother and lifted his wand to help levitate the growing sphere, now the size of one of Fluffy's three heads.

"For our Harry?!" Fred answered, "It's gotta be..."

Both boys flung their wand arms backwards then thrust them forward as they shouted in unison, "A STRIKE!"

The massive sphere sped through the air, gaining momentum as it began rolling across the hall. It didn't slow as it knocked into the group of restrained Death Eaters, crushing them in one fail swoop, clearing the groups way to leave the castle.

Students, a few Slytherin and Hufflepuffs led by Flitwick, gathered to watch from the safety of the other side of the wall began cheering and hurried to join the fight with even more enthusiasm than before, copying the twins tactics and hoping on their own brooms. Seamus and Dean moved quickly to join them.

"Bowling!" Harry exclaimed, grinning over at Ron. "Brilliant!"

"Bowling?" Draco, Theo, and Blaise asked in unison.

"I'll explain later!" Hermione said quickly, ushering them to leave the safety of the large door to exit the castle.

Harry and the others were stopped short as a herd of kitchen elves sporting similar armor to Minks, mostly of makeshift kitchen utensils, charged forward. The small creatures were in one long line, shoulder to shoulder, maneuvering through the herd of oncoming acromantula's.

"That's brilliant strategy!" Ron exclaimed. "The Elves aren't effected by their poison."

"And how is it that you remember that?"

Harry glanced over to see Hermione gawking up at Ron. Ron simply shrugged at her, a small smirk on his lips.

"Always the tone of surprise."

Once their was enough of a clear passage made by the house elves the group of four now joined by Ron, Blaise and Ginny waded through the falling debris of scattered castle bits around the courtyard, they moved quickly, casting shields and hexes as they moved through the thunderous commotion.

Draco and Hermione were working in tandem before Harry as Ginny and Blaise covered Ron as he stunned several oncoming attackers with rapid ease. He managed to dodge a few spells as he tried to sort out the quickest way through the battle field. He saw Hagrid stumbling backwards as a creature much like the one's that attacked them back at the safe house, half man-half wolf, closed in on him. Just as Harry was about to rush to his aid, he saw ropes fly by his head and turned to see Theo's wand pointed at the creature. The ropes wound around the beast, curling tighter and tighter until it fell to the ground struggling for breath. Theo met his stare for a moment before he hurried over to tug Hagrid to his feet.

There was a warm flash to Harry's right, forcing his attention there and that's when Harry felt his heart fall from his chest, the heavy weight intensifying with every passing second. The cries and blasting sounds seemed to dull around him as he slowly staggered forward.

Harry's gaze landed on the lifeless form of a familiar silhouette. He felt someone bump into him as he came to a complete stop. Ron was trying to pull him forward, shouting at him to keep moving, but he couldn't. He was frozen, eyes locked on the blank, empty eyes starring up at him.

It was Tonks. Her bright purple hair was slowly faded to dark grey and her entire body was covered in blood, her stomach had been sliced open and blood poured from her mouth.

_Dead_.

Harry felt his knees give, but Ron's arm steadied him.

"We have to keep moving!" Ron shouted in a desperate wail, his voice cracking as he tried not to look down and shoved Harry forward. "Come on, Harry! I know! I know, but we have to! We have to!"

Harry allowed him to shove him forward, but it was as if before that moment Harry had not had enough time to recognize any of the fallen bodies around him, but now it was all he could see. _Tonks_— _she wasn't supposed to be here! Why was she here? Did Remus know? Teddy! She was supposed to at home with Teddy!_

Harry's gaze filtered over the maze of mangled bodies and blood, frantically searching them, so quickly he felt as if he would give himself whiplash.

A turn to the right: _Cho Chang_—

_Dead_.

Jumping over a small ledge and landing, a glance to the left: _Professor Sprout—_

_Dead._

A glance ahead: _Terry Boot. Anthony Goldstein. Padma Patil. Lavender Brown. Oliver Wood. Alicia Spinnet._

_Dead!_

_Dead!_

_Dead!_

_Dead!_

_Dead!_

_**Dead!**_

Harry couldn't keep his hands from trembling. He was surprised he hadn't dropped his wand. He felt Hermione join Ron in helping him forward, both of his friends keeping him from falling into a helpless heap along with the fallen bodies; both dodging hexes and creatures alike all the while. Luna ran to join them with Neville right on her heels, each taking down a Death Eater coming towards them.

They were nearing the edge of the courtyard when the temperature of the air around them dropped drastically. Harry brought everyone to an abrupt stop, throwing his hands out to keep Hermione and Ron from taking another step.

Harry's breath caught and solidified in his chest.

Large, dark shapes hovered in the sky, lowering, swirling figures of concentrated blackness, moving in a great waves until their hooded faces were only yards away, their breath rattling...

Harry couldn't move. He was suddenly faced with everything they had just seen, every lifeless body, every soul sacrificed, he could see them all in that split moment.

"HARRY!" Hermione was gripping onto him, but he could not feel her hands.

He was numb.

"Harry!" Ron repeated. "Patronuses, Harry, come on!"

Harry felt the dementors inching closer, closer, closer, just as the fallen bodies began pilling up in his mind.

Tonk's lifeless eyes.

Teddy's laughter was slowly fading from his mind, taunting him, reminding Harry that Teddy would grow up without his mother. Because of Harry. Because Harry couldn't end it all sooner. It was his fault. It was his fault. All of it was his fault.

"Something happy!" Luna's voice rung out into the air, but Harry barely heard it.

_**How many more lay dead that he did not yet know about?**_

He felt as though his soul was already leaving his body...

"Harry."

It was Theo's voice now, calm and steady, his breath warm on his face. He felt large smooth hands framing his face.

As Harry's vision emerged from the guilt stricken darkness, the deepest shade of green was staring into him, the color of dark emerald so comforting he almost forgot the overwhelming sense of dull hopelessness spreading through him.

"Harry, don't give in." Theo's voice was sharp, demanding, and would have been slightly terrifying if Harry wasn't so acutely aware of the hidden layer of affection buried within. "We're all still here."

From this close, Harry could focus on the minor details he had missed before. He could see the blood splattered across the side of Theo's sharp features, his upper lip cut on one side and slightly swollen. He could see the skin below his jaw that looked charred as if it had been burnt, and through all of it Theo remained steady, his attention focused on Harry. He was nodding at him, reminding him that people still needed him— that _he_ needed him.

There was a flash of silver behind Theo's emerald gaze, then another and another, more followed after taking the forms of an otter, a terrier, a hare, a boar, and a fox, shinning for a few seconds and then dimming almost instantly.

Harry felt his soul returning with the small distraction. He began lifting his trembling hand, and he almost welcomed the oncoming oblivion, the promise of nothing, of not feeling...

"That's right," Luna's voice was louder now. "That's right, Harry... come on, think of something happy..."

"We're still fighting." Harry felt Theo's hands drop from his face, but his voice was still near, hovering just beside him through his wavering haze of desire to make it all go away; as if he knew exactly what Harry needed to hear. "We're with you, Harry."

A hundred dementors were advancing, gliding toward them, sucking their way closer to Harry's despair, finding his abundant and heavier than the rest...

"Something happy?" Harry said, his voice cracked. He turned to glance over at the others who had joined them, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Seamus, Ernie all trying desperately to produce a patronus powerful enough.

Harry felt the warmth of a bright light glowing next to him, he turned his head to where Theo stood slightly behind him, finding the comfort of emerald reaching towards him; Theo's gaze was set firmly on Harry's. Harry glanced to the tip of Theo's wand where a bright light emitted, rapidly stretching outward...

At first Harry thought the bright haze was forming the shape of a horse, but as the glow continued to grow larger, the patronus shook it's luscious mane revealing a long sharp-edge horn protruding from the tip of its head. The unicorn galloped forward, lingering long enough for Harry to shut his eyes in an attempt to search for the most powerful memory he could remember.

Memories flashed quickly behind his eyes as every sound seemed to fall away...

He saw his parents holding one another as they danced slowly with him as a baby in his arms—

He saw Sirius laughing as he threw his arms around a younger version of himself as he chased him through Grimmuald Place—

He saw Hermione and Ron sitting beside him in front of the fireplace at the Weasley's eating freshly baked cookies—

With each memory he felt his magic boiling, rising higher and higher, but it still didn't feel like enough...

Then another memory flashed, one that caused his magic to erupt with a renewed vigor: Harry saw moonlight rippling across the Blake lake, stretching over him where his body stood shaking and humming with an unfamiliar sense of pleasure, and just before him the moonlight blazed brighter over Theo's face as he inched away from their first kiss—

As he opened his eyes to see Theo's patronus fading, there was a silver spark flickered from his own wand, then a wavering light, and then with the greatest effort it had ever cost him the stag erupted from the end of Harry's wand. It raged towards the dark figures, stretching and growing brighter and brighter, until the dementors were scattering with haste, retreating until they were no longer in sight.

The air around them was mild once more, and Harry felt his body feeling more drained than it ever had before, but the sounds of battle returned like a shock of lightening and Harry had only a moment before they were needed to lift their wands again.

With a roar and an earth-quaking tremor, a giant came lurching out of the darkness from the direction of the forest, thrusting a club taller than any of them back and forth.

"Can't catch a bloody break—" Draco mumbled as they all began staggering backwards.

"RUN!" Ron shouted, but the others needed no telling; they all were forced to scatter, each of them taking off in different directions.

Harry searched frantically for Theo or Hermione or Ron as he stumbled through the jagged disaster zone. He kept lifting his head to search for them, forced to cast a shield as he stumbled and fell to his knees. He quickly shoved himself up and began running again.

He sprinted, half-believing he could outdistance death itself, ignoring the jets of light flying around him, eyes shifting through the hectic crowd of fighters, desperate to find his friends. He felt paralyzed with fear as he pressed his back against a stone, hiding beneath a shadowed ledge. He tried to control his rapid breathing, but the panic continued to overtake him. He felt his scar begin to pulse, burn, and itch like it never had before and then he heard _his_ voice cutting through the raging war and everyone went still.

**_i,!,i_**

**A/N: **Hello again. Just an overall thank you for the amount of reviews you guys left on the last chapter. I don't think I've smiled that much in awhile. It was much needed. Instead of responding to them I took the time to finish up this little gem of a chapter. I figured you all would prefer that! **Let me know what you think!** I should be posting the next chapter within the next few days!


	30. Revenge & Revival (pt I)

**Chapter Playlist:**

_Soldier : Fleurie_

_Heavy In Your Arms : Florence The Machine_

_lovely : Billie Eilish  
_

_Your Guardian Angel : The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus_

_Let Me Follow : Son Lux_

_Our Last Time : Jaymes Young_

**_!,i,!_**

Theo struggled to stay on his feet as he retreated away from the giant's club. He was hardly aware of each scratch and rip forming along his hands, knees, shins with every attempt to stay on his feet. The pain was inconsequential to the panic swelling in his chest as he searched for Harry among the chaos.

He saw the blank look of horror on Harry's face when the dementors descended upon them, the emptiness in his gaze dangerously reflecting that of surrender, of letting go. Theo wasn't sure he'd ever know fear like the fear he felt before that moment.

His magic still hummed with the excitement from casting his first patronus. He had never had a memory worthy of even trying, but after witnessing the lifeless look in Harry's eyes he couldn't stop himself from trying. It was the thought of loosing him, the necessity of knowing that if Harry gave up, he would too, that drove him to focus all of his magic on casting the charm.

It hadn't even taken more than that simple fact— the simple fact that Theo's only happiness came from the realization that he would sacrifice anything, anything, to keep Harry alive.

Theo was as shocked as Harry was to see the glow from the tip of his wand, and even more shocked that it had taken the form a bloody unicorn—

Just as he managed to duck another curse, he opened his mouth to call out for him, but his voice was drowned out by a sickening scream somewhere to his right.

He whipped around, hoping to find Draco, or even Hermione at this point. How did they all get separated so quickly?

The sound of the same painful cry tore him from his thoughts and his gaze found the source: a girl, hardly fifteen, was screaming out in agony. Her skin was slowly turning purple. Theo had only seen a spell cause someone to suffocate that quickly once before. Theo felt bile rise in his throat as the memory appeared in his mind: the memory of his baby brother rapidly loosing consciousness with his father starring emotionless above him.

Theo rushed forward, not even sure what he was going to do once he got there, but the moment he leaned down to help her, the girl's body was suddenly lifted in to the air causing her screams to only grow louder.

As Theo followed the path of magic lifting her in the air he forced every emotion of hate, anger and bitterness into his magic and lifted his wand.

"Stupefy!"

The person flung backwards, hardly lifting a shield in time, but the force of Theo's spell was enough to make him loose his concentration on the girl suspended in the air. Knowing he had only seconds to do something and not enough time to cast a cushioning charm, he lunged forward and the girls body collided with his, sending them both to the ground. They both rolled a few times across the hard stone, but as soon as he managed to pull away he saw the crying girl release a shaky break, color slowly returning to her caramel toned face.

She was still breathing.

"T-Th-Thank Y-You." She sputtered as her entire body shivered. Her right eye was swollen shut and tears were flowing from her other eye. "I c-can't f-feel my-my legs."

Theo glanced down to see her knees twisted in an odd angle and quickly glanced around to search for someone to help. Just as he was about to try his hand at healing it there was a flash of green light and he felt the girl go limp in his arms.

Theo felt numb. Someone was clapping behind him, steadily coming closer. He forced himself to his feet, wand trained on the man approaching him and instantly felt his vein run cold.

"Well, well, well... My son, the hero? Pity it was a wasted effort."

Theo didn't need the man to remove the mask to know who it was. That dreadfully raspy voice had been a reoccurring sound throughout his entire life, haunting and plaguing every miserable waking minute, every nightmare—

"Y-You killed her!?" Theo hated how pathetic his voice sounded. He hated that his wand hand was trembling. He hated how smug his father looked as he removed his mask and sighed as if they were having a normal conversation, and the girls life was simply a minor inconvenience that had been '_dealt with'._

"Yes. It would appear so." Theo Nott Sr. knocked his boot against the girls twisted leg and laughed. "I considered aiming for you, but I really would prefer to have a bit of fun first. You know, a little father son bonding, for ol' times sake. What do you say, Theodore? Humor your old man?"

Rage burned behind Theo's eyes so hot he didn't care which spell came from his lips as he lunged towards his father.

"Sectumsempra! — Tarantallegra! Incarcerous! — **STUPEFY! — REDUCTO!"**

Nott Sr. easily deflected each spell, laughing even louder as Theo shouted each one more vicious than the last.

"WEAK!" His father shouted and casted a blinding curse back.

Theo just barely avoided its force as it soared behind him and crashed into the stone wall. Theo didn't have to wonder what the curse was, the lingering smell of dark magic trailed across the wind.

Father and son stood starring at the other for several moments, both breathing heavily from the effort of the duel, waiting for the other to make the next move.

"You know," Nott Sr. drawled lazily, taking one step to the side as Theo mirrored him,"—I'm rather surprised you've managed to survive this long, son, though you've hardly done that particularly well either, so perhaps I'm not surprised after all—"

"STUPEFY!"

Nott Sr. side stepped the spell, but seemed to not have appreciated being interrupted as he was now glaring at Theo.

"Crucio!"

Theo darted to his left, falling onto his stomach as the curse spiraled past him. His father was more powerful than him. He had spent many of nights proving that to him, but Theo had been defenseless then. Now he had a wand. Now he could fight back.

He rolled over quickly, not even trying to stand up before he cast another curse at his father. "Oppugno!" From his wand flew a flock of birds, managing to disorient his father momentarily and Theo shoved himself to his knees, effortlessly casting another, "Deprimo!"

Nott Sr. recovered quickly, narrowly blocking the spell, though his weak shield caused it to rebound. Theo had little time to react and the spell latched onto his shoulder sending him toppling backwards, knocking the breath from his lungs.

"You're _pathetic_!" His father spat bitterly. "You can't even use a dark spell against me can you?!" Nott Sr. was walking towards him now, fury raging behind his dark green eyes.

"CRUCIO!" Theo shouted, but he should have known his father would be expecting it. He was taunting him. This was just a game for him. He was playing on Theo's anger. His father began laughing again.

Beneath him, stone was digging into the back of his thighs and his already torn apart hands as he crawled backwards, struggling to catch his breath.

"You have to mean it son." Nott Sr. was towering over him now, blocking every weak hex Theo attempted, not even bothering with returning one.

Theo's back collided with a firm surface, the boulder the only thing keeping him from toppling over the courtyards cliffs edge. He didn't have to glance down to know the darkness stretched on for miles and miles below.

Theo tried to use the firm stone behind him to help him stand, but every time he did his father cast a barrier shield over him, forcing him and the stone closer to the edge.

Just as the stone rolled off the ledge and Theo was one shove away from topping over with it, he felt a tight invisible rope latch around his throat and his body began to slowly lift into the air.

He wanted to struggle, he wanted to fight back, but every thought in his mind reminded him that it was no use. The hate-filled gleam in his father's dark stare only reminded him of that.

"I wonder how I got so lucky—" said Nott Sr. "—to not only of had the privilege of having a pathetic and selfish wife, but an equally as inadequate son."

"FUU-CK Y-YOU!" Theo choked the words out, despite the hold around his throat pulling tighter, ridding him of his ability to breath. His feet were now dangling an inch above the ground.

Theo could see an array of colors bursting around the courtyard, some from the battle and some from his mind steadily loosing consciousness, all of it fusing together in one harsh blur.

For a brief moment he tried to hold on. He tried to find some small part of him that thought he could keep fighting. The only reason he could find was the desperate hope that he could get one last glance of Harry, that even if he were to die he just needed to see that ridiculously messy head of raven-colored hair and bright green eyes one last time.

Theo should have known the Fates wouldn't allow it. When had They ever allowed him to have an ounce of anything good?

No, Theo knew better, and his hope died as quickly as his vision went black.

**_!,i,!_**

It seemed to be never ending. With every spell she cast, another came whirling her way.

The dark crimson on every warm and cold body on the battle field begin to shift in color from a dark rusty red to the bright stain of fresh blood as the sun began to appear on the horizon. The bodies that had once been easier to ignore were now multiplying and more visible.

Hermione had never known a feeling of such hopeless desperation, her muscles ached, her bones pleaded for rest. The only thing keeping her heavy, aching limbs from falling to the ground was the steady presence of Draco by her side.

After they were separated from the others Draco quickly began checking on the bodies amongst the courtyard between duels. She thought it was his way of making sure his mother and father weren't among the fallen, as Mink had not yet returned with news. But then she noticed that there was more too it than that. For each pulse he checked to find the faintest of a heartbeat he tagged them with a yellow ribbon he conjured from tattered pieces of clothing, and for the fallen he left nothing.

Hermione wasn't sure how he was doing it with such steady hands, moving from body to body, hardly pausing to fuss over the familiar faces.

Draco sensed Hermione's inability to separate her emotions and simply asked her to cover him, which she gladly did, welcoming the distraction from the endless sea of people they began sorting through. She wondered if perhaps Draco had seen far worse than death during his time in the ranks of Voldemort and that was why it was so easy for him to dissociate. She understood why he was doing it though, by getting to the injured sooner, he felt he might be able to save more than they lost.

It was admirable and she found herself inwardly marveling at the brief reminder that, had she never been his prisoner, she would have never known how surprisingly thoughtful he was in everything that he did. The details he managed to see and the details he created when he felt something was lacking felt almost instinctual.

"We need to find Madame Pomfrey." Draco said as Hermione sent another stinging hex at a female Death Eater running towards them, her hair had been singed off, blood pouring where right hand was missing. "She can charm the yellow ribbons to relocate the injured to the infirmary."

Hermione glanced around the courtyard, grateful to see Ginny and Blaise only a few yards away. "We can send Ginny and Blaise. We need to find Harry."

Draco nodded, shoving himself up from where he was kneeling next to a young Ravenclaw boy whose right arm was severed in half at the elbow. Hermione quickly transfigured a tourniquet from his shoe lace and tightened it over his bicep.

"Someone will come for you soon." Hermione told him, willing her voice not to break, knowing it was a promise she couldn't keep. "Just hang on a little longer. Alright?"

Draco grabbed her arm and they hurried towards Ginny and Blaise. He explained the yellow ribbons and turned to face Hermione once more. His gaze never found her though, instead it focused on something behind her, his expression flooded with horror and then he was shoving her towards Ginny and Blaise.

"Stay with Zabini—" He told her quickly. He turned to Blaise, "—Keep her alive. Promise me?"

Blaise looked puzzled for a moment but immediately began nodding, "Yeah— of course—"

"Wait! Where are you—" Hermione reached for Draco's arm, but he was sprinting away. She heard him yell something that sounded an awful lot like "Theo!"

There was a loud sound of the castle exploding overhead. Hermione moved to go after him, but felt Ginny's hand gripping hers and pulling her in the opposite direction.

"Come on, Hermione!"

"I can't just let him go out there alone!" Hermione yanked her arm out of her grasp, backing away quickly. The explosion overhead caused rubble to all jump out of the way. Ginny and Blaise were forced to run into the shelter of the castle. Hermione could just make out Ginny's worried expression through the rubble.

Hermione managed to catch her footing just in time to see a jinx soaring straight towards her. She narrowly blocked it and started after Draco.

**_!,i,!_**

It didn't matter that he had just spent the last several minutes checking pulse after pulse, witnessing the last breath of so many, young and old, all with beating hearts and people who loved them. It felt terrible to admit, but none of their faces had even registered in his mind. He just hoped by tagging them then maybe one less death would be on his hands, because no matter which way this all ends, Draco knew he'd never make up for the pain of his choices but he was going to fucking try.

Draco understood the look in Potter's eyes when the dementors came. He imagined his expression was an exact reflection of the Boy Who Lived, or in Draco's opinion: the Boy With So Much Guilt He Thought Sacrificing Himself Would Fix Everything.

If being exposed to so much death had official caused Draco to become numb to it's morbid shock, then seeing the life being drained from Theo's eyes was enough to send every ounce of horror flooding back into him tenfold.

The only thing that made him pause was the fear he felt for abandoning Hermione, but as he watched Theo's father begin lifting him into the air he couldn't wait another moment.

As Draco pushed his legs to move faster than they ever had before he could practically feel his need for revenge simmering in his throat, creeping upward, caressing the tip of his tongue, and dripping from his lips; but the taste of it remained just out of reach...

_Revenge._

Close enough to touch, it seemed to stir something in his mind, something powerful, something so tangible, and... familiar?

His brain was rattling, like a feral animal attempting to escape its cage. Then he felt it— the familiar sensation of his labyrinth, though it was shattered, it's vines were plenty, vibrating, rising from its former destruction. Draco didn't know why. He didn't care. But he was grateful, as it only fueled him forward, and the closer he got to Nott Sr. the fiercer the vines began lashing out, each one a delicious reminder of how long he had imagined this...

_Revenge_.

For the nights Draco would find Theo naked, unconscious, his face almost beyond recognition, with only the faintest rise and fall of his chest hinting that he was still alive—

_Revenge_.

For the dilapidated bruises coating Theo's chest and back, shades of black and purples so deep Draco could never be sure where one ended and the other began—

_Revenge._

For the haunted look of misery embedded within his best friends eyes, the look that was a result of relentless years of physical and verbal abuse that convinced Theo he would always be tainted, unwanted, damaged—

_Revenge_.

For every night Draco woke to hear his best friend Apparate into his room, shaking on his bedroom floor because sleeping in the same room that his father killed his baby brother made him vomit until there was nothing left— because the memory always found him in his dreams and only Draco knew how to brew a strong enough Dreamless Sleep drought to keep him from wanting to just end it, to end everything—

_Revenge_.

For every ounce of fucking suffering the monster before him forced Theo to endure, and every time that Draco was too late to prevent it—

Draco refused to be this time.

"Sectumsempra!"

And with that one word, Draco tasted his revenge, and he found that it was, indeed, very sweet.

**_!,i,!_**

Compressed.

That was the only word to describe it.

Theo felt as if his entire body had been compressed; starting with his brain and then his lungs, and eventually his entire body until he could see and feel no more.

With a jolt of pain against his knees, whatever compression he had felt had been sucked into the atmosphere, and with it: his peaceful death... Because now it felt like every inch of his body was expanding to make up for the minor compression it previously endured.

There was a strangled sound of someone choking, but it wasn't coming from him. He could feel the air shakily entering his lungs and exiting with much effort on his part.

His vision came back almost immediately and he found himself on his knees and face to face with his father falling to his knees right before him. It was then that he realized the warm liquid that splattered over his face moments ago was blood, his fathers blood.

Theo wondered if this was some sort of sick joke, some alternate universe or purgatory where he was sentenced to witness all the possible ways the last few seconds of his life could have turned out, but didn't.

There was a very thin line across his fathers neck, sliced with such precision that it almost looked calculated, intentional. As if whoever enforced it wanted Nott Sr. to suffer.

"Draco..."

It was Hermione's voice, oddly enough, that allowed Theo to realize that he couldn't have died, that he wasn't stuck in some fucked up limbo, because Theo was certain whichever afterlife people like him ended up in, Hermione Granger would never end up there.

But for some reason, Theo could not remove his eyes from his father to see why Hermione's voice had sounded so hurt— or maybe not hurt, maybe just full of disbelief?— Theo didn't know because Theo couldn't look away.

He tilted his head to the side, wondering how his father wasn't dead yet. The blood seemed to be pouring at an alarmingly slow rate, as if there was something, a delaying charm perhaps, forcing his blood to decelerate. The only person Theo knew capable of such a thing was, of course Draco, but that thought hardly registered in his mind as his father started to grin.

He was actually _fucking_ smiling at Theo, pearly whites on display and gleaming with the beginning of dawn behind him.

Theo was vaguely aware of the battle still raging around them. He was also aware that Hermione and Draco were no longer watching him, but were forced back into the action. He thought he heard Draco asking him if he was alright, but he couldn't be sure.

He felt torn, unsure if Draco intended to leave him alone with his father, unsure if he was in some mild shocked state and too numb to move.

He didn't feel like he was in shock. Were people in shock actually aware that they were in shock? Certainly people in shock didn't have full on debates with themselves as they watched their father bleed out before them. Or maybe they did?

Theo was no expert as very little managed to shock him.

Was being completely calm a result of going into shock as well? Because Theo felt oddly calm, still, and well— sort of empty?

Was he entirely fucked up for feeling a bit disappointed that it had been Draco who had the courage to kill his father in the end and not himself? But then again if Theo had been the one to do it he knew he'd probably complain that it was, perhaps, a tad too poetic, _predictable_ even.

He wondered if he was in shock because he had imagined his father dying so many times— _wished for it even more_— but seeing it, actually watching it happen was something else entirely.

When Theo imagined his father's death it was exactly the way it was now, except in his figurative scenario's Theo enjoyed it— it made him feel like everything would be better if his father no longer existed; and in theory he still did, but in practice? In reality? He was actually contemplating taking a step forward and healing the fucking bastard.

He could.

If he wanted to.

Then his father started laughing.

The man was _fucking_ laughing at him.

Blood was choking him, staining his mouth and throat as he fell to his back, but it didn't seem to matter. Theodore Nott Sr. still wanted to humiliate his son, even in his dying moments... Had Theo's brain not been utterly fucking useless and refusing to work he may have commented on his father's commitment, a cleverly bitter jab or a sarcastic comment hinting at the irony of being a murderer to then have his own son watch him die.

"Suppose y-you'll be all alone now, won't you s-son?"

In the shallowest part of his brain that was still active, Theo responded with something like— '_I've always been alone you worthless piece of shit. YOU made sure of that'_— but instead he only moved closer. To reach out and try to stop the bleeding? To strangle him faster?

He could feel his hands trembling by his side.

"At leas-st," His father coughed blood onto Theo's arm. He couldn't feel it, he knew it should have been warm or sticky or fuck- something, but Theo couldn't feel a fucking thing. "At least, I went out f-fighting for s-something. You're just like you're m-mother— a c-coward."

His fathers eyes closed then. He was still breathing.

Theo didn't know much about dying, or what the body could withstand blood loss wise, but it looked like his father wasn't going to fade into the dark pits of hell quickly. He seemed determined to ride it out, determined to mock Theo until his dying breath.

He kept lifting his head to laugh at Theo, mumbling his mother's name.

_Delilah_.

Theo knew the name's ironic meaning. It meant weak. His father always made it a point to remind Theo that she was, that he inherited that from her.

The blood was still seeping out.

Theo couldn't watch it.

He thought maybe his father was right and he was weak like his mother.

He didn't care.

He didn't, because at least he wasn't like him. He wasn't a monster. He didn't destroy things. He didn't cripple those he could control.

And to Theo, that was what actually made a man weak: needing the control over another just to feel complete, to feel powerful.

If you couldn't find it on your own then how strong could you actually be? Weren't you more brave for being all alone and surviving anyway?

Theo didn't know.

He didn't know what it took to be brave, but he knew one thing—

He was not his father. He wasn't a monster. And he didn't get any pleasure from watching something die.

Some would consider it mercy. Some would consider it vengeful. Theo didn't fucking consider it at all.

He just knew he couldn't watch the life fade from his fathers eyes like this...

That would mean he wanted to savor it. That he wanted to remember his death.

He didn't.

He didn't get to hold his mother as the life drained from her frail body.

He didn't get to hold his baby brother, feeling the warmth of his soft skin as blood still ran through his veins.

He didn't get to savor them.

It was quick. His father had made sure of it.

Nott Sr. lifted his chin to stare up at him, grinning as he saw Theo's wand hovering near his chest. Theo's hand was shaking. Theo shut his eyes, and he was pretty sure that he was crying like the fucking weak and pathetic person his father made him.

He knew he could walk away and let Draco's curse finish him off, but the pathetic voice in his head didn't want his father to suffer.

He had never hated himself more than he did in that moment.

"D-don't tell m-me you're gonna try a-and k-kill me? Y-You'll screw that u-up too! C-can't even let m-me die properly?"

He didn't have to dig deep to mean the words that whispered off his lips, he meant them, passionately, _desperately_...

"Avada Kadavra."

Maybe Draco thought he wanted to watch his father suffer, and maybe at one point in time that was all he ever wanted, but a certain someone had recently made him think that he should want more...

That someone believed Theo deserved to want more.

Maybe he would believe it too— _eventually_— maybe he wouldn't; either way his father was gone and it didn't really fucking matter.

Nothing mattered if that someone, the one whose life was Theo's life's _best part_ — none of it mattered unless _he lived, too_.

With that final thought, Theo shoved himself to his feet, determined to fight for him. For him. For him. For him. For _**Harry**_.

"Bombarda!"

"Nice aim!" Someone, Theo wasn't sure who, with one glance and he knew it had to be a Weasley, called over to him as he scrambled to his feet after Theo's spell managed to bury a few Death Eaters who were dueling him. "Saved my arse, Nott!"

The Weasley, one of the twins, sent a hex over his shoulder.

"Suppose we're even." The tall red head winked. Then Theo felt his wrist being yanked forward. "Come on. I've got your back if you've got mine?"

Theo was jogging behind him, casting a shield as he maneuvered them through the rubble.

Theo wasn't sure he was seeing anything really, but he could feel whichever Weasley it was grip on his wrist and he was thankful because he really had no fucking clue if he was still in shock or not. He figured he probably was.

"George! Incoming!"

Theo and, apparently George Weasley, turned to the voice at the same time, reacting almost perfectly in sync to the others strengths without even realizing it. They were back to back and when George shoved Theo's left shoulder with his right, Theo knew they needed to adjust their positioning. When Theo lifted another shield, which really were his speciality (he knew how to keep things from hitting him, he knew how to protect himself from things ever getting too close), George would wait and time the perfect moment to roll out of the way to cast a lithe string of jinx and hexes, allowing Theo to block any sent their way.

He wasn't sure how he got thrown into the rhythm, or why George Weasley had so easily adopted him in his orbit, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't rid his father's words from his mind.

Suppose you'll be all alone now, won't you son?

Theo felt George reach for him again, yanking him behind a large piece of the stone and tucking him in between himself and, well, the other George—

"Freddy, still hanging in there?"

"So far, so good." Fred's gaze flickered to Theo, "I see you've replaced me with a less attractive bloke. We were hardly separated for five minutes and you've already moved on? Have you no loyalty?"

Theo felt someone's arm nudge his, he glanced over to see George smiling down at him.

"He's jealous. That means he likes you."

"Oi, Ginny!" Fred, who was bleeding tremendously from one ear called out as Ginny ran passed them, startling her enough to make her fall to her knees and begin crawling towards them.

"Blimey! What are you three doing? Pulling pranks in the middle of a war? Hardly surprised."

Ginny, without hesitation, shoved herself between Theo and Fred, and Blaise appeared seconds later.

"Theo!" He said between heavy breaths, "Fuck, I saw Draco running over to you and your father, but couldn't stick around for the ending. I never thought I'd say this, but I am very happy to see you're still breathing."

"Fuck you." Theo breathed a sigh of relief he hadn't known he was holding, easing away the shock of the last several minutes. "But you too."

"It's a fucking madness out there. Feels like it'll never end! Saw mum and dad take down a troll though. It was mental," said Ginny as she tipped back a bottle of water. She nudged Theo's shoulder with it and he just blinked at it. "Well, go on. Hydrate. Can't have you dying before we end this thing."

"He's shy. Your overbearing motherlyness—" George started.

"—is going to spook him." Fred finished.

Ginny only rolled her eyes, and Theo wasn't sure why it all felt completely normal, despite the war happening literally right behind them.

It was strange, observing Ginny Weasley this close. He had never really understood Blaise's infatuation with the witch, though Theo's biases may have been due to her on again off again relationship with Harry; but as he observed her now, unguarded and without much judgement, he thought he understood what both Harry and Blaise found alluring about her. She seemed to radiate a certain confidence and self-assurance that Theo could only portray from practicing what he conjured in the figments of his overly active imagination.

For Theo, his self- assurance was a mask, but for Ginny Weasley it was a weapon. A weapon that the witch knew how to wield effortlessly.

She was mildly intimidating if he was honest.

"Right, everyone ready then?" She asked without missing a beat. Her blue eyes landed on Theo last. "You with us?"

There was little question in her tone. More of a demand, as if she already assumed as much and she trusted him to be smart enough to nod or say something. He cleared his throat.

Suppose you'll be all alone, won't you son?

"Yea," Theo nodded, not missing Blaise's smirk over her shoulder, as if he sense Theo's hesitation to meet the witches eye. "Yea, I'm with you."

"Good. You can stick with—"

"Me." George finished. "And Freddy. We're quick, but we could do a lot more damage with you watching our back."

"Consider them watched." Theo responded with a curt nod.

George and Fred shared a cheeky grin before yanking Theo to his feet.

Blaise gripped his shoulder before they took off, "Don't die, yea?"

Theo knew this was their normal fair well. Their inside phrase for each departure between the three of them, Blaise, Theo and Draco, and the usual responses were always rather dull, but centering around the same idea: their ability to be cunning and, well, not die; typically something hinting at their 'unfailing canny for self preservation' — but Theo thought maybe that didn't make sense for them. Not anymore.

The phrase Theo had wanted to say— something sappy or unbearably Gryffindor-esque and would probably cause Draco to punch him for subjecting him to sentimental twaddle— immediately died on the tip of his tongue, as a vile hiss penetrated the air around them, and thus causing all sentimental thoughts to cower in a very deep hole.

Voldemort's voice had the effects that of a dementor after a particularly long awaited hiatus of soul-sucking and in that instant, the duels began to settle and all was eerily calm.

**_!,i,!_**

Harry felt his scar simmering with a dulling pain as he sat slumped against the crumbing castle amongst the shadows. Voldemort's voice hissed across the silent courtyard, addressing every one still standing. No one dared to move.

'_**You have fought valiantly...but in vein... I do not wish this... Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste... I therefore command my forces to retreat... in their absence... dispose of your dead... with dignity...'**_

Harry forced himself to his feet, breathing slowly as he felt the dread of what he knew to come begin to fill his lungs.

'**_Harry Potter... I now speak directly to you... On this night you have allowed your friends to die for you... rather than face me yourself... there is no greater dishonor... join me in the Forbidden Forrest and confront your fate... if you do not do this... I shall kill every last woman... man... and child who tried to conceal you from me... _**

**_'You have one hour...'_**

Everyone of Voldemort's forces began retreating and the crowd began to thin.

As the dust settled and the silence penetrated Harry's mind like a knife, he used the last breath of courage he still clung to and wrapped his invisibility cloak around him. His feet began to carry him forward. Slowly, very slowly, though he wouldn't say his goodbyes, nor would he give an explanation. He didn't think he could manage it if he wanted to. This was the final journey that no one could join him on.

Death. It was a concept he had never contemplated prior to having Snape's memories revealed to him. His will to live had always been so much stronger than his fear of death. Yet it did not occur to him now to try and escape, to outrun the inevitable. It was over, he knew it, and all that was left was the thing itself: dying.

Despite his already accepting his fate, despite having time to consider it, the actual act of it felt daunting. There was a very bitter part of him that felt envious of his parents death, the deaths that marked him as Voldemort's enemy. It had been quick for them. This cold-blooded walk to his own destruction weighted on him, demanding a different brand of bravery, one he wouldn't wish anyone to be forced to know.

He heart leapt in his ribs, at first he thought it was a result of his heart being aware of just how little time it had left and that maybe it as determined to fulfill a lifetime's beats before the end; but that wasn't it. His heart was responding to what his eyes were so _adamantly_ refusing to see.

It was Theo.

He was gripping on to Hermione's shoulders, shaking her, demanding that she tell him where Harry had gone.

Ripples of scathing cold undulated across Harry's skin, his fingers were trembling and his body felt heavier with every step forward. He wanted to shout out to the rising run, he wanted Theo to know that he was there, he wanted him to know where he was going. He wanted to be stoped, to be dragged to that god-forsake island Theo had always joked about them running off to, to be together, to just finally _**be**_...

Harry realized he had stopped walking without meaning to. He could see the tears streaming down both Hermione and Theo's face now. Theo dropped his hands from Hermione's shoulders looking about as battered in defeat as Harry felt. Theo lifted his head in the direction Harry stood, and Harry's breath caught, despite being hidden beneath the cloak.

He couldn't stand it. He couldn't. As he looked at Theo he could see nothing but everything they never got to become. How could he walk away now?

_Theo deserves someone to stay..._

Seeing Ron and Hermione was an unbearable sort of pain that Harry couldn't even manage to grasp it. But he had spent more than half of his life with them— there were no regrets to how fiercely he loved and they loved him.

The same couldn't be said for him and Theo.

With agonizing effort Harry tore his eyes away from Theo along enough to reach into his pocket and used his wand to sever the white patch of fabric and transfigured the gold watch he got for his 17th birthday into a quill.

He wrote his final note to Theo. He charmed it to float directly to him and forced his feet forward.

_Passing a note._ Harry was walking to his _**death**_, but felt it imperative to pause fate long enough _to pass his crush a note!_

It seemed so adolescent, so juvenile, so insignificant compared to what he really wanted, but Harry also thought it felt _right_, certainly not enough, but there was no longer time for that.

He felt his mouth tug into a small smile at the thought of Theo finding it ironic, or maybe even poetic.

He hope Theo would appreciate the gesture for what it would remind him of: _their brief story that never truly began._

He stood facing the Forrest with all the evidence of his guilt stretched out behind him, and just above the trees he focused on the beginnings of dusk on the horizon, the vibrant golden hues of his very last sunrise mocking him with their beauty.

His fingers curled around the golden snitch as he brought the familiar cold object to his lips. This was it. This was acceptance.

_I open at the close. _

"I am about to die."

**_!,i,! _**

There was nothing left to do but wait.

Hermione could hardly bring herself to move. Voldemort's voice had forced everything inside of her to crumble.

That was over an hour ago and now she found her self sitting completely still in the Great Hall turned into an infirmary for the dead and wounded. She felt numb, hallow, tears were no longer running. She had none left.

There was a body count.

The number disturbingly high. Hermione forced herself not to remember it.

She glanced up to see Draco sitting on the floor just outside the hall, his arms cradling Theo against him. Draco had to force him out of his hysterically shocked state, going as far as giving him a calming draught and carrying him inside. He refused to stop storming towards the Forrest prior to the potion. He was determined to find Harry.

Hermione had been there when the scrap of fabric floated along the breeze and clung to his chest. She had watched him through her own tear-blurred eyes as his long trembling fingers unfolded the shabby white cloth. The moment her eyes recognized the familiar handwriting she knew what Harry intended to do, and she also knew there was nothing they could do to stop it.

After seeing the note Harry left for Theo she felt a whirlwind of emotions in the span of a split second; beginning with fear... A desperate, aching kind of fear for what Harry intended by not saying goodbye.

Then anger because Harry was leaving her behind. He was leaving her behind when she made a promise to him to never let him feel alone. Didn't he care that she was willing to go to the ends of the earth for him— that he is her only family left?

And then it was the most gut-wrenching sadness for knowing there was nothing she could do to stop it, and she may never see him again.

And as Theo curled his fingers around the note and starting storming towards the Forrest, Hermione couldn't be bothered to consider what she was actually feeling beneath the numbness that settled the longer time passed.

Now, as she lifted her gaze to meet Draco's as he held onto Theo's slumped form, the numbness became comforting because she knew he felt it too. He gave her the smallest of smiles, the kind that came across as more of a tick than an actual facial expression, but she was grateful for it all the same.

Her body ached from the aftermath of the battle and the last hour spent helping move the injured and dead, but the unsettling discomfort was welcomed. It gave her something to focus on besides the impatient terror that seemed to be hovering thick in the atmosphere.

People were huddled together, seeking comfort and aid. Students, families, friends...

The Weasleys were the quietest they had ever been. Ron especially. As he sat a few feet away from Hermione she imagined the empty, glossed over look in his gaze was far similar to her own.

The subtle sound of a familiar 'pop' managed to catch her attention. She glanced back to where Draco and Theo sat and forced her stiff legs to lift her to stand. She watched the concentrated expression on Draco's face shift, his brow pulled tight, his eyes clouding with a disturbing amount of worry—

She walked faster, her gaze flicking from Draco's face to the trembling elf kneeling before him. Mink— The 'pop' had been Mink— Mink was meant to find Narcissa and Lucius— and now she was here — and Draco was pale — too pale—

"Draco." Her voice came out much more steady than she felt.

Draco's eyes lifted to hers and Hermione was certain she couldn't hear whatever he was about to say. She had already been depleted of every emotion.

She dropped to her knees beside him.

"Dead." Draco croaked, hardly above a whisper. His eyes darted across her face rapidly as if he wasn't really seeing her, but piecing some impossible puzzle together in his mind. "He— He's dead."

*****

_I hope one day you find someone to love you properly. _

_I'm sorry it couldn't be me._

_x_ **HJP**

*****

**A/N**: I'm sorry. I swear I'm not trying to be cruel with the amount of angst in this chapter.  



	31. Revenge & Revival (pt II)

**A/N**: (I meant to post this on the last chapter, but oh well) I spent a good amount of time determining what I thought Theo's patronus should be. I fell in love with the idea of the unicorn patronus for him after reading through an endless list of characteristics for each animal. Just sharing the snippet below in case your inner nerd enjoys information like that as much as I do. The underlined bit came from tumblr, the rest I added for flare :)

**Theo's Unicorn Patronus** — A unicorn patronus is produced by those with the purest intentions and the most loyal personalities. These individuals normally brighten the day of everyone around them and they always seem to be glowing. Witches/Wizards who cast the unicorn patronus may be friendly, but there is still a mysterious and secretive side to them. This is very understandable seeing as they are always trying to listen to others and help them so they need privacy in their lives to center and stay balanced themselves. They are kind, but very fierce. Just as it is mystifying for one to have the luck to come across the creature, it is equally as rare for one to come to fully understand the complexities of the person capable of casting a unicorn patronus. Though they are rare, and even more rarely spotted, the opposite is true for how much _they have seen_; such individuals experience things on a deeper level than most, providing them with endless content for masterful storytelling. Although they act on truest intentions, like everyone, they make mistakes. However, when they do they will do everything in their power to fix it. They are very elegant individuals and they hold themselves up high with confidence.

* * *

**A/N:** Content directly from canon will be sprinkled here and there, as it has been throughout the rest of the story. Enjoy!

"I thought he would come."

There was the vaguest hint of disappointment in Voldemort's tone, but his usual air of arrogance hardly wavered as he strode towards the middle of the semi circle his followers had created. Narcissa Malfoy stood just behind him, closet in proximity only second to Dolohov. She remained dutifully silent, her mind reeling with unsettling anticipation. She could not keep this up. Her nerves were finally weighing on her. She willed them to silence, though questions of her son's whereabouts remained heavily on her heart. She had seen the outcome, yes, but the specifics of how they reached this conclusion had not been made aware to her. She wondered if perhaps, like the surprise lifting of the curse from her veins, she could have mistaken her vision for certainty. Could she have missed something? Could she have been wrong that Harry Potter would end this?

"I expected him to come."

No one amongst the group spoke, not even the Forrest was stirring, humming with usual vibrancy that often came with the coming of dusk; timid were the creatures in the Forrest, it would seem, aware, just as Narcissa was, that the monster among them should be given his revered silence.

"I was, it seems..." Voldemort continued, his voice lowering a bit, mouth tightening into a firm line as if the words he would speak next had an actual taste, a taste that he could not swallow, "..._mistaken_."

"You weren't."

Narcissa felt it then, the same stirring of magic, the same tugging on her chest she endured the night Hermione Granger lay bleeding out on her floor. She willed her body to remain rigid, her face impassive, as all the other Death Eaters began whispering, searching through the thick trees for the source of the boy's voice. Had Narcissa been so focused on the curling sensation in her magical core, the one that only occurred when she was needed to _**see** _what was not apparent to those without the sight, she would have marveled at how confident the boy sounded, his voice had a demanding presence.

Was this what was causing her so much inner turmoil? Was this what she had not for seen before? It was clear that the boy had come to give himself up, so how could it be that she hadn't predicted this as well? Perhaps something had shifted once more as a result of some unknown factor she had not been prepared for.

She could think of only Lucius then, her instincts warning her that his actions had blindsided her.

Voldemort had frozen where he stood, but his red eyes found Harry as he removed an invisibility cloak, and Voldemort started to move towards him, with nothing between them but a dying fire.

"HARRY! NO!"

Narcissa turned, the large groundkeeper that was bound and trussed, tied to a tree nearby, was shouting. His massive body shook the branches overhead as he struggled, desperate.

"NO! NO! HARRY, WHAT'RE YEH—?"

"QUIET, YOU OUF!" Shouted Rowled, and with a flick of his wand Hagrid was silenced. Dolohov, who had leapt past Narcissa, was looking eagerly from Voldemort to Harry, his breaths heaving. The only things that moved were the flames and Nagini, hovering in her protective cage.

And then Narcissa knew. She knew why her magic had alerted her of this moment, to pay closer attention. Her heart began pounding heavy in her chest as her eyes darted from the snake to Harry.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort said, though his back was to her, Narcissa could tell his thin lips were curved into a grin. "The Boy Who Lived—" Voldemort took one stride forward, tilting his head, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if he proceeded. Narcissa saw the boy raise his chin an inch, stubborn defiance, courage, and as his eyes fluttered shut, _acceptance_. "—come to die."

_NO_! Her body betrayed her. She stepped forward, but it was too late.

There was a flash of green light, a soft thud of his body against the Forrest floor and then everything was quiet.

_This was not meant to be_, she kept telling herself, refusing to believe her eyes.

Narcissa had not realized her feet steadily closing in on where the boy's body lay until she was kneeling beside him. She was aware that no one else dared to move, not even Voldemort it seemed. Even he remained frozen, eyes trained on the boy's fallen body, as if in fear to let the moment end, or perhaps, more accurately, in hopes to make his moment of victory last.

Draco had thought, after everything they've been through, that he had seen Theo at his worst. He thought there was no chance that he would ever witness an even more shattered version of his friend than what he had seen as a result of his father, but as he sat with him now, he knew that wasn't true at all.

The broken version of his friend he held in the past was full of anger, pain, resentment, fear, sorrow, heartbreak, regret, and every emotion at once, but this version...

This version seemed hallow.

_Empty_.

As if there was nothing left to break.

"You knew, didn't you?" Theo's voice was hardly above a whisper.

Draco felt his arm curl instinctively tighter around Theo. He hated how his best friends voice sounded so empty, harsh, void of anything, as if he was only left with the truth to replay in a vicious loop behind his eyelids. The truth that neither of them said aloud, the truth that Theo refused to accept.

Draco caught Hermione's gaze as she finally sat near the Weasley family in the Great Hall. He understood his place was not with her, not now. He wasn't wanted inside the aftermath. It was better for the ones mourning their loved ones not to be reminded that he was most likely related to, or if not, the cause of their deaths. He wondered when that thought no longer angered him. He wondered when he had come to accept it. He thought perhaps it had everything to do with the witch he was starring at now. He had no room for anger when he knew he would carry as much as she would allow him of her own grief, if only she would let him.

Hermione's face wasn't as empty as Theo's, but it was just as fucking painful to see. He didn't look away. He was determined to never look anywhere but where she was. He felt it was the only thing keeping him from becoming the same hallow form as Theo.

He sent her his best effort of a reassuring smile, hoping she knew how much he wanted to be near her, to apologize, to make it better, to hold her, to never let go... all with the faintest effort of his pathetic smile.

It seemed to do the trick. Her eyes looked less narrowed. He thought he possibly even saw the flicker of similar sentiments being sent back to him in the smile she returned, saying: _'I know. I'm sorry. Theo needs you. I don't know what I need. But seeing you. It helps. Nothing will make it better. But looking at you helps._'

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat, not trusting himself to speak, but determined to feign some semblance of comfort for Theo.

"He made me promise." Draco wished there was more of a message, he wished he would have demanded Harry give him the right words to say to Theo, but Draco had not truly understood Harry's reasonings for needing Theo to remain in the dark specifically, but as he held Theo now, he thought did.

Theo didn't move. He hadn't sense Draco was forced to stun him and carry him back into the castle. When he revived him, he just clung to Draco.

That had been over half an hour ago and these were the first words they were exchanging. Draco had spent the last thirty minutes willing Theo's hands to stop shaking with his mind, knowing it was no use. His left fist, it was shaking less than the other. Draco thought maybe that had to do with the white square fabric Theo had be clinging to almost as tightly as he was to Draco's sleeve, his need to not let it go outweighing his need to shake with grief.

"He made me promise not to tell you." Draco added, "_You, specifically." _

He hoped Theo would allow this to give him some small ounce of comfort. He knew it wouldn't.

The look Hermione had given him had made that painfully clear: '_Nothing will make it better'_

Draco tilted his head back on the wall they sat against, attempting to count his own heartbeats, matching them with Theo's. His friends seemed entirely too slow— or maybe Draco's just refused to stop working in overdrive as it knew he was willing himself not to think why Mink had not returned yet.

"I killed my father."

Draco wasn't surprised that Theo changed the subject.

"I wanted you to have the final say." Draco said calmly. "I wanted you to finally have a choice."

He felt Theo shift his head up from his chest to lean more comfortably on his shoulder, but he didn't release his hold. Draco didn't mind. He thought maybe he needed to feel like he was helping him from falling apart just as much as Theo needed him to— that maybe if Theo let go then he would be forced to focus on keeping himself from falling apart instead, and he just wasn't sure he could.

"I really wanted to slice his legs off one by one, place a body binding curse over him and toss him to the dementors, but I repressed my selfish urges to honor your questionable future sanity, as I know you would have never forgiven me for the injustice of allowing you the pleasure of being rid of him yourself."

Theo's chest shook slightly at that, Draco smirked, knowing that was as close to a laugh he was going to get. He tried not to let his mind remind him how well he knew Theo, how he was certain his friend was silently wishing his father had finished him while he had the chance, wondering if he would be saved from the pain he was currently in if Draco had never gotten there in time.

"I doubt much will serve to help my sanity from be questioned after today." Theo's voice was so soft Draco was certain he would have missed it if he hadn't been so keenly attuned to Theo's every movement at that moment.

Draco wanted to make a joke, he wanted to say something along the lines of _'It would hardly be the first time'_, but he couldn't; instead he repressed the need to stretch his legs, the need to— _fuck, to do something — and tilted his head to rest against Theo's, forcing his eyes shut. _

The longer they sat there the more time it gave Draco to replay the moments before he sliced Nott Sr. throat open and placed the status charm to delay it's effects. It was a torture tactic his father had taught him, ironic enough. The wound would slice, heal, slice, heal, repeat — reversal of the spell coming from a unique counter-curse that only Lucius and Draco were aware of, or the killing curse.

He remember feeling his vines threatening to all compile in his vision at once. It was comforting, in a way, to know they were still there, tucked away haphazardly in his mind. He wondered if they were only accessible when triggered. Would he ever be able to organize them again? He wished more than ever that his labyrinth worked, to numb the terrible heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach and the burning in his skull.

It hardly mattered. He knew that. But considering this served as a distraction to the lullaby of soft sobs and whispers that were wafting over him from the Great Hall, he entertained the thought.

"M-Master Drac-co."

Draco's eyes shot open.

"Mink?"

It would appear his heart _could_ beat faster, as he was sure now it was practically causing his ribs to crack from where it was about to lurch from his chest. Theo had jolted up right beside him as well, both of them tense as they regarded the nervous elf. Her white gown was covered in grime as it was earlier, but now with a faint hint of charred black smudges. She smelled of smoke and burnt flesh. She was gripping her right ear tightly, tugging at it as she usually did when frightened.

It was the subtle gesture that made Draco aware that whatever her findings were, he wouldn't want to hear them. Mink fell to her small knees, dropping her shoulders and large tearful eyes downward.

"Mink. What is it? Where are Draco's parents?" Theo, despite his inability to help himself, asked the elf what Draco could not. Draco could not have been more grateful for his friend in that moment.

"M-Mink is s-sorry. S-sorry f-for not returning s-soon—s-sooner—" the elf stammered, shaking slightly until Theo reached for the creatures small hand and squeezed it, nodding at her, encouraging her to spit it out. Mink lifted her trembling chin and starred at Draco. "O-other Master w-was a-at the island, b-but— but—"

"But _what_ Mink?" Theo demanded, his left hand gripped the square fabric while his right remained the victim of Draco's unrelenting grasp, now playing the role of stability, though neither could be certain which of them were the cause of the trembling.

"It's gone. Fire. Mink saw f-fire everywhere!" Mink wailed, dropping her head firmly to the stone floor. "Other Master destroyed i-it. It's all— all gone. Mink c-couldn't see p-past the— the flames. Mink couldn't carry Other Master's body b-back, b-because, because—"

"Enough." Theo said gently, and the elf seemed grateful she didn't have to keep explaining.

"Draco." Hermione's voice was enough to force Draco to blink. He turned to see her kneeling next to him.

"Dead." The word felt wrong, like he was lying to her. He blinked again, forcing it to make sense. "He— He's dead."

"Lucius." Theo explained when Draco couldn't.

His father... his father is dead? Why could it not sink in? Draco couldn't he seem to make the word have meaning.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Every time he thought of it, the word felt less significant.

"And what of Narcissa?" Hermione asked the elf delicately. Once again Draco found himself grateful that he didn't have to ask. He shut his eyes firmly.

"Misses is here. Misses is right outside."

Draco forced his eyes to open then and when he did he saw Mink's arm lifted, pointing towards the large doors leading to the courtyard, and as if on cue the sound of spells bursting into the morning sky resounded on the other side of the door causing everyone in the Great Hall to begin to stir.

Hermione and Theo shared a worried glance.

"They're back! All of 'em!" Seamus shouted from where he stood near the glass window inside the Great Hall. Beside him Dean took a shaky step forward, "Whose that Hagrid's carrying?"

"Everyone still able, to the courtyard, now. Leave the injured." McGonagall shouted over the terrified voices that began to rise. The Headmistress looked more frightened than Hermione had known the woman capable of.

"Come on! We've not lost. This isn't over!" Neville shouted firmly, though he limped as he hurried past them.

Theo shot to his feet, pulling Draco up along with him. Theo shared a quick glance with Hermione, and they both gripped Draco's hand as they joined the growing crowd of fighters returning to the courtyard.

The place where the Killing Curse had hit him felt like the bruise of an iron-clad punch. His body ached, pain cut into his temple, but he dared not stir.

His previous experience, whatever or where ever he had just been with Dumbledore, felt as real as the solid earth beneath him; as real as the soft cushion fabric of the invisibility cloak and Draco's thin wand press firmly against his chest, sticking just our from his inner robe pocket.

_I have to go back, haven't I?_

_That's up to you._

_I have a choice? _

_Oh, yes._

Harry remembered how easy the decision had come to him while in that place, as if nothing could ever be particularly considered difficult or painful in that safe haven with Dumbledore, but now, as he returned to the Forrest and lay completely still, all of the grief, heart-ache, wounds and haunted thoughts returned, but so had something else. Himself. Only himself. No longer was there a piece of darkness connected to him, just as no longer was there a piece of him connected to Voldemort. This last fight. This end. This _final_ end, would be it. The victor of this End would remain, while the other, will not.

That simple truth sparked a new daringness him; a determination that came with knowing the most plainest of truths— that Death was as easy, as quick, as falling asleep — Voldemort feared that sleep. Harry had welcomed it, known it, and awoken still.

"My Lord... My Lord..."

The shaky voice of one of the Death Eaters reminded Harry to use his senses to explore his predicament, as he kept his eyes firmly shut. The voice was close, as if standing near the place Voldemort stood when he cast the curse. He had expected to hear cheers of triumph and jubilation at his death, but instead hurried footsteps, whispers, and solicitous murmurs filled the air.

"My Lord..."

"That will do." Voldemort's voice was sharp, almost like a gasp of fleeting breath.

More footsteps. Several people in the semi circle had hastily shuffled away from the voice. Harry felt desperate to see what was the cause of this. He lifted one eyelid, just slightly, enough to see Voldemort rising to his feet. Harry dropped his eyelid instantly, considering what he had just witnessed. Had he fallen? Had something happened when he had killed Harry? Did he collapse? Did he fall unconscious as well, and only just now had both of them returned?

It would explain the surprise gasp, the slight terror in it, Harry thought, perhaps he had witnessed, as Harry had, the brief place they were to go once no longer here— Harry suspected Voldemort's brief visit had not been as pleasant as his own, certainly no conversation with Dumbledore about the regret, life, and above all love.

"My Lord, let me—"

"I do not require assistance!" Voldemort bit out sharply, and though Harry could not see it, he imagined whichever Death Eater that attempted to aid him, was now hastily withdrawing a helpful hand. "The boy..." Voldemort rasped out angrily, "Is he dead?"

There was complete silence in the clearing, but Harry heard ruffling behind him, just not realizing someone had been kneeling there all along.

"Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."

Harry could do little other than lie there, with his heart thumping traitorously, and wait, but at the same time he noted, providing a small comfort, that Voldemort was wary of approaching him, that Voldemort suspected that all had not gone to plan... he believed Harry more powerful than him still.

Hands, softer than he had been expecting, touched Harry's face, crept beneath his shirt, cool fingertips grazing his chest, and pressed against his heart. He could hear the woman's fast breathing, her long hair cascading over his face and neck, blocking his face from everyone, specifically Voldemort's, view.

"Draco. Is he alive? Is he in the castle?"

The whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from his ear.

"Yes," he breath back.

"Nagini. The snake. She is last."

He felt the hand on his chest contract; her nails pierced him. Then it was withdrawn. Harry lifted his eyelids briefly as the woman sat up and promptly closed them as she looked to Voldemort.

"Dead." Narcissa Malfoy called to him.

The cheers Harry had been expecting from before now rung out through the Forrest. Burst of red and silver light shot through the air in celebration. As the laughter and merriment continued, Harry glanced at Narcissa, who sat on her knees, watching the bursting of color with a fixed gaze, clearly devising a semblance of a plan behind her deceptive eyes, and that's when Harry understood.

She knew the only way she would be permitted to enter Hogwarts, and find her son, was as part of the conquering army. Harry felt a strong urge to thank they woman for her part in leading up to this point, to inform her of all that her son had done for him as well, but knew he must continue his act awhile longer. He hoped there would come a day they got the chance to see one another after this, he imagined they would. After his brief encounter with Death, there was very little Harry did not suspect could happen if he only fought for it.

The victorious procession marched on toward the open ground, and after a while Harry could tell, by the lightening of darkness through his closed eyelids, that the trees were beginning to thin.

Harry felt the air shift, becoming more fresh around him, sensing that they had reached the edge of the forest. Then a warm drop of liquid dropped on his neck, and he felt Hagrid squeeze him closer in his arms. Harry heard the rasping breath of the dementors that patrolled the outer trees. They would not affect him now. The fact of his own survival burned inside him, a talisman against them, as through his father's stag kept guardian in his heart.

"Stop." Voldemort commanded. Hagrid's steps instantly came to a halt.

"Harry Potter is dead." Voldemort's voice magically magnified so that it swelled through the grounds, crashing upon Harry's eardrums.

He heard the large doors of the castle creak open. The shuffling movement of a crowd gathering on the opposite side of where Hagrid held him tight within his grasp.

"He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is no more. War has come to it's end. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come! Join me! All will be forgiven, and we can begin our journey into a new world we shall build together."

There was a silence in the grounds and from the castle. Harry could not contain his desire to open his eyes, but resisted sensing that Voldemort was close.

"Come."

Voldemort's voice had moved forward, inching away. Hagrid was forced to follow, as if chains were strapped to his ankles, guiding him in tandem. Harry could resist no longer. He opened his eyes a fraction, and saw Voldemort striding forward, Nagini around his shoulders and Harry heard Narcissa Malfoy's whisper whisk through his mind.

_Nagini. The snake. She is last._

He waited. Any moment, the people for whom he had tried to die would see him, lying apparently dead in Hagrid's arms.

"NO!"

The scream was more terrible because he had never expected or dreamed that Professor McGonagall could make such a sound. Harry squinted again for a single second and saw the open doorway filling with people, as survivors of the battle came out onto the front steps to face their vanquishes and see the truth of Harry's death for themselves. He couldn't continue to watch them. He feared his heart would betray him and force his body to react the moment his eyes laid on his friends. He kept his narrowed eyes on Nagini's long body hovering near Voldemort as he stroked her head. He shut his eyes. _She is last._

"No!"

"No!"

"Harry! HARRY!"

He knew very well whose voices belonged to. Their cried worse than McGonagall's; Harry wanted nothing more than to call back, yet he made himself lie silent, and their cries acted like a trigger; the crowd of survivors began shouting at the Death Eaters—

"SILENCE!"

There was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all.

"IT'S OVER!" Voldemort boomed impatiently. "Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Harry felt himself lowed onto the ground. The pain surged through his body, settling deeply in his muscles. The need to keep his body from reacting to the torture was almost as powerful as the searing pain, neither showing any sign of relief. He could feel his body being lifted and it took every piece of self control he had to remain limp as he hovered in the air, his arms and legs casted limply. Then he was dropped. Then came a slight welcomed relief from the slicing torture curse that was replaced with the sharp stabbing of the stone against the length of his back.

"You see?" Voldemort began pacing back and forth right beside where he lay. Nagini curled around his shoulders. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"HE BEAT YOU!" Ron's voice broke the silencing charm, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful band extinguished their voices once more.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds!" Voldemort claimed with renewed fierce anger, but there was a relish in his voice for the lie, "killed while trying to save himself—"

Voldemort's voice broke off: Harry head a scuffle and a shout, then another bang, a flash of light, and a grunt of pain; he could not resist, he opened his eyes. An infinitesimal amount. He wished he hadn't. A few yards away lay someone who had broken free of the crowd and charged at Voldemort: the figure lay disarmed, Voldemort's laughter rung out as he tossed the challenger's wand aside.

Behind the figure Harry's gaze fell upon the crowd, allowing himself to recognize the faces for the first time. He only got a glimpse, but it was enough to cause more pain to his chest than falling to the ground or any torture curse ever could; the glimpse that allowed him to catch the eye of Theo, who was kneeling before Hermione and Draco, the later of which, had his hands gripped painfully tight around both of Theo's arms, preventing him from falling forward. Theo's head snapped up, his eyes wide and chest heaving, and just as quickly Harry forced his eyes away.

He glanced to the figure who had escaped the crowd as he lifted his head slowly. Harry's eye caught Neville's. He was inches from Nagini.

Neville's hair fell over his eyes as he struggled to push his weight up. He initially looked shocked to see Harry's eyes open, but masked his emotions just as quickly.

'_The snake— kill the snake!_' Harry mouthed without moving anything else. Neville's head remain still as his eyes followed Harry's purposeful glance at Nagini and gave the subtlest nods, one that could surely be mistaken as a twitch from enduring being shot down by Voldemort.

"And who is this?" Voldemort seemed amused. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord!" One of the Death Eater's announced with a sickening laugh. " The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors who Bellatrix cursed mad, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I remember." Voldemort strode forward, grinning down at Neville, who was struggling back to his feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in no-man's-land between the survivors and the Death Eaters. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

"So what if I am?" Neville said loudly, purposely positioning himself closer to the snake by taking a limped step sideways as if he was off balance. Harry would have smiled if he could.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need you kind Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over!"

"Do you mean to harm me with that hat, foolish boy?" Voldemort spat. "You have no weapon. You have nothing."

Still watching through his lashes he watched as Neville positioned himself one stride from Nagini, the sorting hat gripped tightly by his side. Harry hadn't noticed it before.

"Dumbledore's Army!" He announced and cheers rang out over Voldemort's silencing spell.

"Very well. If that is your choice."

Harry heard more danger in the silkiness of his voice than in the most powerful curse. Harry knew the moment had come.

"Neville! Now!"

Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak from inside his robes, swung it over himself, and sprang to his feet, as Neville sprung forward. In one swift, fluid motion, Neville's arm withdrew from inside the Sorting Hat, revealing something silver, with a glittering, rubies handle—

The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd or the sounds of the clashing giants or the stampeding centaurs, and yet Harry could see nothing else. With a single stroke Neville Sliced off the great snake's head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall, and Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet—

Hidden neath the Invisibility Cloak, Harry cast a Shield Charm between Neville and Voldemort before the latter could raise his wand. Then, over the screams and roars and the thunderous stamps of battling giants, Hagrid's yell came loudest of all.

"HARRY! HARRY— WHERE'S HARRY!"

Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Death Eaters, everyone was fleeing the giants' stamping feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where; Draco held tightly to Hermione's hand as they followed behind Theo, who had tugged out of Draco's hold the moment Neville lunged forward, his gaze had not left the place Harry lay moments ago, where there was now nothing but the lingering blood from his earlier fall to the stone.

"He's alive!"

Draco could hardly make out Theo's voice amongst the sounds of creature and fighters alike, though he knew he was repeating the same words he had been whispering to himself on a loop from the moment Hagrid had laid Harry's body down. Draco had thought his friend had officially lost it, mumbling to himself like a man driven to insanity as his eyes remained wide with rejuvenation on Harry's still form. It took everything within him to keep Theo from escaping his left arm wrapped around his shoulders, struggling with his own desperate desire to join him, as his mother stood amongst the opposing crowd. The only thing that allowed him to think logically was Hermione's presence beside him, her shoulders trembling beneath his other arm.

As the three of them began being shoved backwards towards the castle, Draco saw great winged creatures soaring around the heads of Voldemort's giants, thestrals and Buckbeak the hippogriff scratching at their eyes while Grawp punched and pummeled them.

"There he is!" Hermione shouted breathlessly, smiling wider than Draco had ever seen. He followed her gaze to see Death Eaters crumpling to the ground, the spells being cast at them seemingly coming from no where. "He must be beneath the Cloak!"

Draco saw Theo take off in that direction, and his heart dropped into his stomach. Voldemort was in the center of the battle, and he was striking and smiting all within reach. Hermione's hand in his pulled him after Theo, but Draco couldn't take his eyes off of Voldemort, as his red eyes had just latched onto the very person Draco was searching for amongst the battle.

"NO!" The scream ripped from his chest as he sprinted forward. Draco could feel his lungs tightening, his pulse racing, mind numbing to everything but the suffocating fear of not reaching her in time. "MOTHER!"

"You!" The sound of Voldemort's voice was so gripping, so deadly that Draco felt as if he was hit with a wave of dark magic from the force of it. "You said he was dead!"

His mother had been searching for him too, frantically scanning the crowd for his voice. He continued calling out to her, desperate for her to just run— to get away—

Voldemort raised his wand and directed it at Narcissa Malfoy.

Draco was certain his heart had been ripped from his chest the moment the bright green light emitted from the tip of Voldemort's wand.

"Protego!" Harry's voice bellowed loudly over the entire hall.

There was a yell of shock, cheers, and screams on every side:

"HARRY!"

"HARRY!"

"HE'S ALIVE!"

Draco felt himself fall to his knees, relief, terror, misery, he didn't know, he couldn't place the feelings erupting inside him as his gaze settled beyond the place where Harry stood before his mother. His mother. She was alive. She was heaving unsteady breaths on the floor behind Harry.

His mother's comforting blue gaze found his desperate one. He let out the strangled breath he hadn't known he was holding.

There was a chilling silence. Defenders of Hogwarts and Death Eaters alike remained at standstill, watching as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help." Harry did not remove his eyes from Voldemort's. His voice carried like a trumpet call, as powerful as thunder and striking as lightening through the silence. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Voldemort recoiled, letting out a sound that could only be described as a reptilian-like scoff.

"Potter doesn't mean that," Voldemort hissed, red eyes bulging with attempts to contain his terror. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter."

"Nobody," said Harry simply, as if he were not concerned with anything at all. "Didn't need one in the Forrest, did I? Don't need one now."

Voldemort flinched, his fingers tightening around his wand.

"There are no more Horcruxes." Harry continued. "It's just you and me, Riddle. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good..."

"One of us? You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

Draco was familiar enough with Voldemort's movements by now to know what his stance now revealed, his whole body was taunt and his red eyes stared, a snake preening to strike.

Harry smirked.

Draco could not prevent himself from rolling his eyes, _the arrogant git. _

Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" Harry asked, moving sideways, mirroring Voldemort's steps, creating a perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for Harry no face seemed to exist apart from Voldemort's. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident. That I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again? Yes," Harry let out a humorous laugh that only proved to infuriate Voldemort further, "—must have all been merely coincidence. How does it feel knowing happenstance would have you fail to succeed, not once, but three times, Riddle? And to a teenage boy at that?" Harry tutted, a sly grin curling on his lips that left Draco, well everyone really, gaping at his nerve. "I think I'd be a tad embarrassed, Riddle—"

"Accidents!" Voldemort screamed, but still he did not strike, and the watching crowd froze, petrified, and of the hundreds in the hall, no one seemed to breath. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and hid behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them all for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," said Harry firmly, ridding his earlier taunting tactic in place of something more commanding. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people—"

"But you did not!"

"—I meant to! It's your arrogance, Riddle, your unwillingness to believe there are things you will never understand. You're blinded—"

"Your lies will not convince me that you wield a weapon I do not. You are not more powerful than I, Harry Potter."

"You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

"You dare—" Voldemort seethed.

"Yes, I dare," Harry's voice was louder now, demanding even Voldemort to tense. "I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them! I know things you don't, Tom Riddle. Would you like a lesson now? Before you make another big mistake?"

Voldemort did not speak. Draco glanced warily at Hermione, she met his stare, her face mirroring his own, both nervous and temporarily entranced with what was unfolding around them. As if everyone was entranced, wondering what secret Harry Potter could know that Voldemort did not...

"Is it love again?" Voldemort jeered. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, _Love_, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking— _Love_, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother or your pathetic Blood-traitor father — and nobody seemed to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse in the Forrest." Draco thought he saw Harry's eyes flicker for the briefest of moments, hardly able to be certain, to where Theo was standing, but his green eyes quickly returned as if it happened at all. "So what will stop you from dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing." Harry's voice was low, a threatening growl.

"If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both." Harry glanced at Draco then, and that's when Draco noticed the swelling, tingling of magic curling from his own forearm.

Draco watched in slight disbelief as the same magic that tied him to the Elder Wand, remained in his veins. He glanced from his arm to Hermione, who was blinking at him in confusion. She didn't see it. The light blue tendril of magic hummed from where he stood, dusting over Voldemort's back until it settled against Harry's skin, and the similar glow laced itself within Harry's veins. Draco searched Harry's expression for any semblance of explanation, but received none.

Voldemort began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than his screams; humorous and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall.

"You think you know more magic than I do? Than I, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it, but he knew more than you, knew enough not to blame coincidence and learn from what he could not understand."

"You mean he was weak! Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No," Harry shook his head fondly at something no one else could be sure of, "Dumbledore was cleverer than you. A better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!" Voldemort roared, he sounded slightly like a ungrateful child, demanding for something they could not have. Draco had never seen him react in such a way.

"You thought you did, but you were wrong."

For the first time, the watching crowd stirred as the hundred of people around the walls drew breath as one.

"DUMBLEDORE IS DEAD!" Voldemort hurled the words at harry as they would cause him unendurable pain. "His body decays. I have seen it, Potter, he will no t return!"

"Yes, Dumbledore's dead, but you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

Draco saw Harry shoot him a sly smirk, before returning his attention back to Voldemort. _What was he doing? Why was he prolonging this? _

"What childish dream is this?" Voldemort laughed, not aware of the glance Harry had just given Draco.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours," Harry said. "Snape was Dumbledore's. Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Voldemort did not answer. They continued circling each other, like wolves about to tear each other apart. Draco heard Hermione release a small gasp next to him. He found her knowing eyes on him.

"This is what the two of you saw in the Pensieve? Isn't it?" She whispered and Draco nodded. She blinked at him briefly before turning her fearful gaze back to Harry.

"Snape's Patronus was a doe. The same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized. Another mistake, or how you prefer to see it— coincidence." Harry narrowed his eyes at Voldemort, whose nostrils were flared. "He asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

"He desired her, that was all, but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood worthier of him—"

"Of course he told you that," Harry laughed mockingly, "but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore's was already dying when Snape finished him!"

There was a resounded gasp from the crowd.

"It matters not!' Shrieked Voldemort, who had followed every word with rapt attention, but now let out a cackle of mad laughter. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! Are they here now? No, and it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways you do not understand! Dumbledore's was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy— I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up, I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! It is you! You who is the fool, Harry Potter!"

"Are you certain about that?" The condescending tone in Harry's voice did not go unnoticed, Draco found himself growing increasingly impatient with his theatrics, but something about the way his gaze kept flickering to Draco's, and the subtle way his hand would brush over his back whenever he would find himself before Draco as the circled made him pay closer attention to Harry's subtle messaging. He felt it imperative, like a stirring in his bones, to remain ready at a moments notice. Perhaps there was something Harry still needed of him.

"Still not working properly for you, is it Tom?" Harry challenged.

"What is the meaning of this?" Voldemort demanded, his voice less confidant than before. He lifted his wand, eyeing it warily as it began to glow with the same magic currently pulsing in both Draco and Harry's veins. Harry held Draco's stare for a moment, giving him a brief nod, signaling... _signaling what? _Draco wanted to shout at him. Harry was on the opposite side of the circle, inching towards him.

"Allegiances..." Harry tsked, shaking his head briskly. "Fickle things, allegiances..."

"I removed it from Dumbledore's tomb! It's power is mine! I won it when I killed Severus!" Voldemort sounded as if he were trying to convince the wand as much as he was the crowd around them.

"I'm beginning to realize how so many things slipped from your notice." Harry sighed, as if this entire conversation was inconvenient and not a matter of life or death. "Do try to keep up, Riddle."

Draco wondered if Harry had picked up that line from Theo, the resemblance in his demeanor was uncanny.

"Severus Snape was never master of The Elder Wand!"

Voldemort's chest rose and fell rapidly, and Draco could feel the tension reaching it's breaking point. Harry was only three steps from Draco's reach now.

"So it comes down to this, doesn't it?" whispered Harry, taking his stance just before Draco. Draco saw Harry lifting his hawthorn wand, hovering it before his face, and everyone's eyes in the Hall fell upon it.

Draco locked eyes with the heated red glow over Harry's shoulder, a vicious hiss erupted from Voldemort's lips, "Draaaco!"

"Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does..."

Harry's other hand reached behind him slowly, his fingers counting down from three. Both of their veins seemed to glow for only them to see. When the last of Harry's fingers curled down, Draco quickly reached out, feeling his magic propelling him forward, closer, until the glow intensified beneath their skin, providing a indescribably warm sensation to transfer and meld between their magic.

"I am the true master of the Elder Wand!"

A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above them as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both Harry and Draco's faces at the same time, so that Voledmort's was suddenly a flaming blur.

Draco could feel nothing else other than the very most innate part of him being transferred to Harry, strengthening him, providing him the last sacrifice he could: his own magic.

He released Harry's hold, dropping onto his back at the exact moment Harry and Voldemort both cried out:

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

The bang was like a cannon blast, and the golden flames that erupted between Harry and Voldemort, at the dead center of the circle they had been trending, marked the point where the spells collided. Hermione immediately fell to Draco's side, helping him back away from the force of magic spiraling all around.

Green forcefully molded into red, the bright flickering light remained for only seconds and then Hermione saw the Elder Wand fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Nagini, spinning toward the master it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last.

With the grace and ease of a skilled Seeker, Harry's free hand caught the wand.

Draco clutched his chest, gripping it tight where he felt as if someone had quite literally ripped his heart from his chest with their bare hand, but he pain seemed to dull the moment he saw the staggering form of Voldemort fall backward, eyes no longer burning embers, but faint white spheres void of life. Tom Riddle hit the floor with a mundane finality, his body feeble and shrunken, the snakelike features turned vacant and unknowing.

Voldemort is dead.

**_*_**

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**A/N:** wheeeew!

Okay, I'm taking a poll for how you all want the next part of the story to be revealed...

**Epilogue Series** of sorts (**multiple chapters, possibly up to 10**) where we get insights, little snippets of all characters following a scattered timeline, flashbacks/present intertwined, definitely heavily Dramione focused, but may have chapters where it explains what happens to the other pairings/characters (_ex. NottPott, ParkGrass, Blinny)_

**_Or_**

**1-2 chapters **wrapping up the aftermath/where they are now in a **linear format **mainly centralized around Dramione storyline. **Basically, how the story has been thus far.**  


I have so many (happy, hilarious) ideas for scenes for the **epilogue series** option, but I want to remain consistent if that's what you readers prefer. Let me know what you think in the reviews and I'll try to accommodate everyone's preferences best I can!


	32. After

**A/N: **Ok, so this is just a little addition of the aftermath of the battle to help clear up minor plot details that may have been confusing in the last chapter!

**_!,i,!_**

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Relief would come, Draco thought, but at the moment it was muffled by his heightened anxiety, and the expression of grief engrained in his mother once youthful face.

"He's asked to speak to you alone first." said Professor McGonagall, as she gave Draco a rare smile. "I shall be along shortly after. Go on."

Draco glanced down at his mother, stepping out of her hold around his waist. She squeezed his hand once and gave him a reassuring smile, though it did not reach her eyes. Draco took a deep breath and turned to the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the headmaster's study, it was knocked on it's side, lopsided, looking a little worse for ware, and Draco wondered if it would even allow him entrance.

"Er— may I enter?"

"Feel free..." groaned the statue.

He glance once last time at his mother and ascended the spiral stair case.

They would have time to grieve together, to make up for the misery they both numbly endured over the years; they would have time to heal, and discover the people they were now; because neither of them really knew, had never truly known, who they were without Lucius Malfoy. It was as if he and his mother were starting over, and although this terrified Draco, he felt determined to honor them both, come what may, his parents would always be the reason he had the strength to survive.

Draco hesitated as he stepped into the Headmaster's empty office. A wave of nausea flooded over him as he scanned the portraits along the walls, some of their inhibitors were missing or sleeping, but the one that caused him the most discomfort was the newly added portrait residing directly above the Headmaster's desk, its border engrained in silver and gold, shiny and new, unlike the bronze color of its neighboring portraits, and within it, sat the wizard with the steely blue eyes behind half-mooned glasses perched upon a long nose: Albus Dumbledore.

"Good evening, Draco." Dumbledore announced kindly, his gaze never leaving Draco as he gave him a welcoming nod. "Lemon sherbert?"

Draco frowned for a moment and then watched the late Headmaster extend his finger towards the black cabinet to his right where the stone Pensieve lay, beneath it on a lower shelf a box half filled of candy, some half eaten, and some wrappers tossed about.

"I believe even Severus had a sweet tooth as he held onto my secret stash of sweets, and unless Peeves has somehow required a taste for stealing candy, well, I'd imagine the sudden disappearance can only be a result of Severus' late night sweet tooth."

Draco blinked a few times up at the man and then shook his head. "I'm— um, thank you, but no. I've not got much of an appetite at the moment, I'm afraid."

It felt disorienting. Hours ago he stood amongst students, creatures, and fighters alike in the aftermath of the battle, and now he was discussing Snape's eating habits with the man he tried to kill on more than one occasion.

Dumbledore's head nodded as he glanced down at his hands that resided on the rest within the portrait. "Ah— Yes. Yes. Forgive me, time escapes you within these portraits after awhile. You have just assisted Harry Potter in defeating Voldemort, yes?"

Draco nodded, his mouth feeling suddenly dry.

"Brave boy. Brave boy.' Dumbledore mumbled to himself, moving to stand from his seat to round the desk in the portrait. He stood just before it, clasping his hands before him. Draco wasn't sure if Dumbledore was referring to Harry or himself, he couldn't fathom the words were meant for him, but as the Headmaster smiled at him, he wondered if he was dreaming.

"I'm sorry, professor, but—"

"You wish to know why I have summoned you? Is that it?" Dumbledore peered over his half moon glasses, smirking at Draco knowingly.

Draco nodded.

Dumbledore shifted to lean back against the desk, his expression grew slightly grim as he continued, "Evil forces, such as Voldemort, attempt to corrupt the students within this castles walls, and evil forces will continue to do so, so long as evil exists. Do you know why that is?"

Draco shook his head.

"Because in the end, his greatest weapon was you... there is potential for greatness in youth, I believe Voldemort saw that in you."

There was nothing Draco could say. He felt as if the very blue eyes penetrating him from above were keeping him locked, paralyzed in place.

"The events that have come to fruition, Harry defeating Lord Voldemort, none of that could have been possible without one very crucial thing, Draco. Do you know what that is?"

"I-I don't sir," said Draco feebly.

"Choices, Draco. You were faced with many difficult choices, and the reason I've asked you here is with hopes that you will allow me to explain mine. Tell me, Draco, are you curious why Harry needed your magic to meld with his own in order to defeat Voldemort?"

Draco shook his head, dropping his gaze from Dumbledore's for the first time. He felt as if he could breath evenly again as he attempted to sort his thoughts.

"I assumed it had something to do with being a previous owner of the Elder Wand, but I'm not sure because it no longer answered to me."

"Close." Dumbledore nodded, "—very close. But it was not the act of Harry disarming you that finally gave him the wands true allegiance, but your willingness to sacrifice your _claim_ to it**as well as your** _**own**_ **_magic_**, that allowed Harry to succeed in the end. Tell me, did you feel your magic leaving you when you reached out to Harry?"

"Yes." Draco said softly, glancing back up at Dumbledore. "I could feel my magic draining from my core, like— like someone was ripping it from my chest."

Dumbledore nodded, "Being stripped of one's magic is a terrible fate for one to encounter, but Harry was able to see to fixing that, was he not?"

Draco had to suppress his need to roll his eyes. "After several attempts, Potter managed it." Draco grumbled a tad lower, "I think he took the piss out of making it excruciating as possible."

Dumbledore let out a soft laugh, "Yes, well, let's just be glad the Elder Wand was able to give back what is rightfully yours before Harry disposed of it. It would have been a terrible waste otherwise."

"Disposed of it?"

"I believe Harry's exact words were 'This wand is more trouble than its worth, and I've had enough trouble for a lifetime.'"

Draco felt the corner of his mouth twitch. "Sounds about right."

"As for Severus," Dumbledore added brightly, "He has asked me to pass along a message."

"Severus?" Draco frowned. "Snape left a message for me?"

Dumbledore tilted his head, "You seem surprised. Surely you must know how fond he was of you?"

"I-I, um— no. I wasn't."

"Oh, yes, in his own way, however unpleasant or unfeeling he may have seemed, he revealed to me just how fond he was of your talents. I believe, and forgive me if this is out of turn or causes you any ill feelings, but I believe Severus regarded you as a father would a son."

At that, Draco dropped his eyes, shifting uncomfortably.

"I see I may have overstepped. Forgive me."

"No." Draco amended quickly, shoving thoughts of his own father aside. "Not at all. I respected Snape. I still do. I know what he did, and I— well, what was his message?"

"Oh, right!" Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "I'll be right back. Have a chocolate."

And with a flurry of his purple robes, the headmaster whirled out of the portrait leaving Draco alone in the office once more. Draco waited for several moments where he stood, but after a good bit longer he began exploring the office. His feet brought him over to the stone Pensieve and he was instantly reminded of standing in this exact spot only months earlier, when Snape had still been alive, and he was still a Death Eater.

His eyes scanned the blue strands of memories floating just beneath the surface. He remembered wondering which of his own memories would be worthy of being left behind, which memory, that if stumbled upon, the viewer would find Draco Malfoy worth remembering. At that time he could think of none, not a single memory, but now...

He shut his eyes, allowing his mind to grow quiet. He couldn't pick apart his labyrinth anymore than he could begin to control which memory would come to mind, but he tested his theory of believing certain memories could be triggered if he concentrated enough. It took several tried, but eventually he felt the chaos settling and several vines tangled together becoming brighter than the rest...

The first vine shows him:

_Hermione laying asleep in his bed at Malfoy Manor a few days into her recovery from the curse. He soft curls sprawled out over his pillow. He reaches a timid hand forward, careful not to disturb her, but desperate to push back the hair cover her gentle features, to take her in, to try and place the need to protect her, to keep her safe._

Another vine untangles:

_Now she is standing before him in the dim light of Grintgott's just outside of Bellatrix's vault after he let her look into his mind, lowering her wand, her eyes focused only on him. She is looking at him with more understanding than anyone has ever looked at him before. He thinks she'll hate him for what he's done, who he really is, but then she kisses him and he thinks he will never know acceptance as beautiful as this._

Another vine:

_Every inch of her skin is touching his while they lay in perfect bliss and tangled sheets in the tent. Every touch, every whisper giving Draco another reason to forget why he believes they could never work. The night he finally understood what it meant to be apart of something outside of himself, to belong, to have a choice, and always, always choose her._

Draco opened his eyes. The office was still silent and nothing had changed, but Draco thought he understood what Dumbledore meant about choices, and he also thought he would rather hold onto the only memory worth leaving behind because his best decision was saving Hermione, and their story... well, he would rather hold onto a little while longer... he had a feeling it wasn't over yet.

"Ah— here we are, Draco." Dumbledore's voice rung out as he shuffled into view of the portrait once more. "Snape's will, as well as a personal letter to you. Would you like me to read it now?"

"Yes. Please, sir." Draco said as he moved to sit at the seat before the desk, leaning back to look up at Dumbledore.

"Very well... where is it— oh! Here... Let me see— Yes!

_Draco,_

_I understand that you may not understand why you are the only person to whom I have left any possessions. Let me begin with stating that I had every intention of telling you these sentiments in person, but it would seem that I have never truly been one for pleasantries or conversation, particularly ones pertaining to expressing my respect or admiration—_

Dumbledore snickered a bit, hiding his laughter behind the back of his hand, "Understatement of the year one would say—" before glancing at Draco, "—my apologies, hm, let's see... where was I— oh— here we are..."


	33. Ever & Afters (I)

* * *

_!,i,!_

**INSIDERS GUIDE TO THE WIZARDING WORLD HEROES:**

**WHERE ARE THEY NOW?**

(EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEWS FROM THOSE CLOSEST TO THE MAN WHO KEEPS ON LIVING, 

OTHERWISE KNOWN AS THE BOY WHO LIVED OR THE CHOSEN ONE: HARRY POTTER — full story, pg 6)

_By the Daily Prophet's Gossip Correspondent, RITA SKEETER_

*

_There is truth — and then there is Truth._

_You've heard it all before, Harry Potter ended the war by defeating Lord Voldemort on the 8th of May, 1998 during the Battle of Hogwarts; one of the most momentous occasions recorded in Wizarding World history, but you've never heard it like this. Follow me, Rita Skeeter, on a journey to Truth, where I will uncover what life looks like now for the Heroes of the crucial war, and how our beloved Chosen One continues to conceal shocking secrets leading up to that fateful day._

_No one can be certain of the exact details of what led to the end of the war, or how Harry Potter was able to outsmart the darkest wizard of our time, but what we can be certain of is that there is plenty to be discovered._

_As devoted fans and followers will remember, Harry Potter's two closest associates, the ones who know everything about him and yet have refused interviews with the press on every occasion, none other than Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, the two who were with him every step of the way. Are they afraid of him, or is it their own secrets they are afraid will leak out, tarnishing the myth of He Who Could Not Be Named's defeat? Could it be that Hermione Granger, known femme fatale of the group, could possibly be resentful of her and Weasley's known on again off again relationship, to only end with him in the arms of another, a one Alice Dearborn (see pg. 10)? Perhaps, the two have too much to hide, too much the Chosen One prefers to remain a secret?_

_Then there are those members of Dumbledore's Army who fought diligently along side Potter as well, some who can give us insight on what the trio is determined to keep hidden from their devoted admirers (Selfish and ungrateful? I'll let you decide)_

_One always hesitates to invade the privacy of young people, but the fact is that anyone closely connected with Harry Potter reaps the benefits and must pay the penalty of public interest; and the first to pay the price will be the two lovely subjects of my first interview: both newly appointed Hogwarts professors— the delightfully eccentric, Luna Lovegood, now teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, and her fiancé, and the new professor of Herbology, Neville Longbottom..._

* * *

*

**Honorable Mention**

_Noteworthy News Updates _

_of the _

_Lesser known, Lesser interesting Heroes of the War:_

_**Summer is Heating Up! **  
_

_Holyhead Harpies Chaser, Ginny Weasley, spotted on Italian getaway where known Celebrity Public Representative, Blaise Zabini has kickstarted his new PR firm... Colleagues or Lovers? You decide. (_Photos Inside, see pg 11_)_

_**Ronald Weasley, The Chosen One's right hand man has landed himself a new love interest, the lovely Alice Dearborn!**_

_Could a relationship be brewing between the two fresh Auror trainees? And if so, how heart broken is Hermione Granger? We have our theories, let us know what you think. (_see pg 10)

_**The Undesirable Youth Sanctuary for Magical Misfits**: **magical institution for all**, awaits permit from the Ministry for permission to begin building. _

_Organization founders, Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass, have received support and funding by unknown donors (though, due to the atrocious amount of funding one can only assume funding came from the prestigious heirs whose company names can be found on the permit in question: Malfoy INC. and NOTT associates)_

_The two founders have also gained support from an unlikely ally, and one third of the trio, Hermione Granger, who is aiding the founders by crafting the legal legislation needed to have the permit granted approval. Granger was quoted saying, _

_"_It's a wonderful and progressive step forward in equality amongst all beings, humans and creatures alike. I'm honored to be included in the magnificent, and long overdue, positive societal change in the Wizarding Community."

_Rumors have also suggested known werewolf, former Hogwarts professor and survivor of both the First and Second Wizarding wars, has been approached for the position of Headmaster at The Undesirable Youth Sanctuary for Magical Misfits, though Remus Lupin as neither confirmed nor denied the rumors validity._

_To learn more about the developments of the Youth Sanctuary stay tuned for weekly updates on our Official Ministry News column (_pg 15_)_

WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENTS:

_**Unlikely Love Amidst War: **_

_Seamus Finnegan, Broadcaster along side Lee Jordan for the Wizarding Wireless Network, purposes to long time friend, short time beau, and known Expert in Muggle Relations, Dean Thomas, the day after the Battle of Hogwarts. Wedding is to take place this Fall, and all of Dumbledore's Army is to be in attendance. Stay tuned for wedding detail updates!_

* * *

*

**A/N: **

_ALAS!_This is an introduction to the Epilogue Series: 

**_Ever Afters_**! 

I'm trying my hand at incorporating the one and only Rita Skeeter as a way to convey a larger, overarching picture. Many of the chapters will begin with different segments of Rita's articles, but majority of the content will be as it has been up to this point (story format) — anyway, hope this is something you all look forward to reading! I'm obviously excited to write some fluff (but let's be honest angst will always be present) for our favorite characters, since I never post this fast, like ever! 


	34. Ever & Afters (II)

**08/25/1998 **

[3 months after the Battle of Hogwarts...]

*

_Breaking News_

**Death Eater Trial end with Surprising Twist: **

**Society is Outraged and Death Threats Ensue**

By the Daily Prophet's Gossip Correspondent,

RITA SKEETER

_It will come as no shock to most of my readers to hear that the infamous Malfoy name has been through many ups and downs over the years. Maintaining the status as number 8 on the Wizarding World's most wealthy families has proved to be a difficult image to uphold (imagine the stress of being disgustingly rich and ridiculously beautiful— a terrible burden I'm sure)._

_But as one of society's spotlight families expectations have always laid heavily on the Malfoy name, but what could not have been expected was the role the Malfoy's played in the fight to end the war. _

_It was announced only days ago, that Narcissa Malfoy, (widow) the once respected philanthropist and gracious host of society's most stunning gatherings, was pardoned of all associated crimes during the war, despite her entanglements with Voldemort. (Specific's on the hearing and final decision of the Wizengamot have not been released to the press)_

_In response to the communities outrage and constant death threats for the Malfoy widow, the Wizengamot was forced to retract their pardon and have come to another solution in answer to the communities upheaval._

_A __separate trial will take place in the coming weeks for Narcissa Malfoy where she will be tried and held accountable for not only her own, but also her husbands, Lucius Malfoy, involvements with the Dark Lord, as he has been reported missing since the final battle.  
_

_Will the laws ever truly be equal for all classes? Or will the nobles, the wealthiest of our society, continue to get away with the heinous crimes they commit? _

_If Narcissa Malfoy is convicted for her husbands misdoings, would the community and those who have been effected by the war accept this as justice or misplacement of punishment? _

_Updates on all Death Eater Trials can be found on pg 2._

* * *

_**Hogwarts**_

Narcissa Malfoy watched her son pace back and forth before her. He was in a particularly... unhinged state as of late, and though her entire life prepared her for dealing with particularly determined men, she found she had very little to say in between her son's long winded ranting. She sat in her wing backed chair behind her new mahogany desk (compliments of Theo Nott's impeccable taste in furniture), in her office at Hogwarts, sipping her tea, watching as Draco lifted both hands to curl firmly in his hair, causing it to become disheveled in a way that would previously cause her to insist he do better at hiding his frustration, but it was, it seemed, much to her relief, easier to let him express himself. She would often find herself immediately returning to old habits of correcting certain behaviors in her mind, but she was learning to let things go in a way she never had the luxury to do before.

She understood his frustrations, but she also understood that she had much more to be grateful for. She was reminded of that as she glanced around her new office. It was certainly not her intention to accept Minerva McGonagall's offer to become a professor at Hogwarts, it was never her intentions to take on a job at all, but after Minerva told her that it was Draco's idea, she found herself unable to say no.

The Headmistress owled her some days after the battle, extending an invitation to tea. Narcissa accepted the offer.

_"Mr. Malfoy has brought it to my attention that you are not currently residing at Malfoy Manor." Minerva said casually after their small talk begun to fade out. They sat within the Great Hall, staff and students who volunteered to repair the school were scattered about the grounds. Narcissa found the laughter and noise a welcomed distraction. _

_Narcissa placed her cup down, forcing a polite smile. "No. I'm not. I find it's very difficult to be there after everything."_

_Minerva nodded, giving her a small smile._

_"You know," Minerva sighed fondly, "Although I would have never expected as such, your son has been the most surprising of all my students. I am, as I'm sure you are, very proud to see the young man he has become."_

_"It's true." Narcissa gave the other woman a knowing smile. "Though I'm certain it came as quite a shock to much of the other staff members, well, perhaps save for Severus, of course." _

_Minerva placed her empty cup before her and an instant later it was full once more. The headmistress shot a grateful smile to the kitchen elf near the front of the hall. _

_"Speaking of staff members, it is the main reason for my summoning you."_

_Narcissa tilted her head, "Oh?"_

_"Mr. Malfoy has informed me of the particular magic you taught him to help to conceal his mind. I must say I found every bit of his story fascinating, though your influence over his abilities caught my attention more than once. It is rare that I have come across someone as disciplined as your son in regards to Occlumency. As you know the Ministry was required to interrogate your son and Kingsley insisted that I was there, and I must say you have developed a remarkable method."_

_"Well, I wish I could say it wasn't out of necessity to take such measures, but thank you all the same."_

_"Yes, I suppose it was. All the same, it should not be considered lightly. Mr. Malfoy and so many others survive today due to your method of inventive magic alone."_

_"It had very little to do with my methods and everything to do with how gifted Draco is. I've always known he was special—" Narcissa paused then, glancing at her lap before continuing. "—but forgive me for not understanding, but is that my reason for being here? I've hardly any notes or academic essays on the topic worth sharing—"_

_"Though your abilities are undoubtably impressive and a contributing factor, that is not my true intentions with this meeting. No. I've requested your company in hopes to offer you a position amongst my staff. As you know Hogwarts is in a phase of 'starting a new' and after my short conversation with your son we both believe it would be in the best interest for not only the school, but for you as well."_

_"Draco came to you to discuss me?"_

_"Oh yes." McGonagall nodded, taking a sip of her tea. "He was very insistent that I speak with you. I have come to discover that your son is fiercely protective of those he cares for. I believe he fears leaving you alone once he returns this September for his final year. I do not want to overstep or assume I know the intimate details of your family, but considering the state of the Wizarding community following the war, I would imagine the dark days we feel that are behind us won't remain in the past for everyone. That being said, Hogwarts can be a place to consider home, a place to start again, if you feel you wish to accept."_

Draco stopped pacing suddenly in his tracks to glance over at her. He dropped his hands to his waist and frowned.

"Mother, are you even listening?"

Narcissa, stood from her chair and walked over to her son, placing her hands on either side of his face.

"We will survive this." She said simply. She reached up to tuck a few pieces of his hair back in place, some habits take time to be rid of it would seem. "Your father's mistakes may not be my own, but there is no separating the two for some. What is important is that we remember the man he was in the end; it cost him his life for you and I to know that. That's all he wanted in the end. I know you want to honor that, but you also feel resentment towards him. I'm asking you not to." Narcissa took a step back, dropping her hands from his face to smile at him. "So don't let this media circus get to you dear. Your mother has survived much worse. Now, off with you. Classes begin in a week and I will be checking the dormitories to ensure you return by Sunday after your visit with your friends. Hm?"

Draco rolled his eyes.

"None of that." She turned him by the shoulders, opening the door to her office for him. "My being here was your brilliant scheme, after all. No one to blame but yourself."

Draco paused in the doorway, regarding her for a moment. Narcissa could practically feel the worry radiating from him. She tried not to let it show how much it broke her it to be so worried with stress.

"I'm glad your here mother." He said earnestly.

"Better to keep an eye on me, least I burn down the Manor or free all the Elves in your absence."

Draco smirked at that. "I would never accuse you of freeing the Elves, mother. Then you would be expected to actually clean and cook, and we mustn't have that— Ow!"

Draco flinched, though he was laughing, as his mother took the news paper from his hand to wack him on the hand.

"I'll have you know I have spent the last two nights in the kitchens observing the kitchen elves and can successfully produced a dish that resembles Chicken Cordon Bleu."

"Resembles being the operative word." Draco mumbled as he side stepped his mother's second swipe, missing him as he hurried down the hall, calling over his shoulder, "See you Sunday mother."

"Give my best to Miss Granger, will you dear? I missed her on the way out this morning!"

As her son turned down the hall she could see the faintest beginnings of a blush rise to his cheek_s._

_

**!i!**

*****

* * *

_

This day was proving to be very difficult for Draco, though it had certainly not begun that way. No, his day had begun perfectly, so perfectly in fact, he imagined there could never be a morning more perfect...

4:43 AM

**Chateau Malfoy**

"Your mother will hear us!"

Draco was not concerned with whatever Hermione was saying, his ears, along with his hands, mouth and pretty much every other part of his anatomy were far too busy reacting to the touch of her soft skin against his own.

This was the first time Draco had successfully convinced Hermione to spend the night at his mother's Chateau, he would have to thank Theo later for giving her that forth glass of champagne while they were having dinner at Potter's.

The last three months Draco committed himself to cleaning up every mess his father left behind, which entailed more than he would have imagined. Since his mother refused to return to the Manor, Draco was left sorting out legalities of the Estate, which was proving difficult to give full attention to with Death Eater trials demanding his full attention. If he wasn't used as a witness in a trial, he was being summoned to confirm specific stories or details, and when he wasn't providing testimonies for the Wizengamot , he was assisting the Auror department with capturing Death Eaters still on the run, or giving them insight on different curses or spells Voldemort's followers crafted while under his influence. Unfortunately, Draco was a valuable resource and the Ministry knew it.

So between carrying for his mother and atoning for his mistakes with the Ministry, he was allotted very little time with Hermione; not to mention the small side project he enlisted Theo for: the side project he was determined to keep a secret, but highly important and absolutely necessary above all else...

Needless to say, Draco wanted to be alone with Hermione, and that did not mean '_alone with Hermione at Grimmauld Place_, _where every one and their evil half-spawn seemed to live and would interrupt them at any moment— _No. It meant several uninterrupted hours of holding her, looking at her, touching her, and yes, making love to her would be acceptable as well, but even if that wasn't the case, Draco would be perfectly willing to just lay there in silence.

Luckily, she seemed equally as deprived as he did, despite her insistent whispers that said otherwise.

"Draco..." She sighed as she arched her back to let his hands curl around the small of her back as his lips trialed barely there kisses across her stomach. "I should go. What if... What if you're mother—"

"You're very beautiful when you're refusing me." Draco interrupted. He let his body glide upwards until his lips were hovering over hers. She smiled up at him.

"And you're very beautiful when you're corrupting me."

Draco smirked. "I would disagree, but..."

Hermione framed her small hands on either side of his face as she let out a small laugh. Her hair was loose and wild, fanning out over his crisp white pillows. As his eyes scanned over her body beneath him, he felt a insatiable spark of pride as he noticed every small piece of evidence of him along her skin; just along her throat was still tinged pink from where his lips lingered deliciously for a moment too long the hours before, and just beneath it along her collarbone he could see the faintest invention of his teeth, and lower still whispers of his lips kissing her, though not visible, remained still, with the peak of her breasts and the goosebumps raised along every inch of her skin. Draco learned long ago, it was never smart to leave evidence behind, but with Hermione, he was determined to leave all that he could, least she ever be tempted to forget.

She would leave soon. Too soon. He was helping his mother get settled in her new office and she was having lunch at the Weasley's with Potter. He was already dreading the moment he would be forced to let her skin leave his.

"I wish I could come with you today." She said softly, curling against him as he lay on his side, her arms reaching around his shoulders, fingers aimlessly teasing the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I wish we could just stay like all day."

He felt her smile against throat.

"You and me? Get what we want? The universe would never allow it."

He pulled her closer, fighting a smile to tug on his lips.

"I'm quite satisfied with the universe at the moment."

"I suppose I am more difficult to please." She teased, nipping at the skin beneath his jaw.

Draco tiled his head back to narrow his eyes down at her. "Is that a challenge?"

Hermione kept her face neutral, lifting one shoulder in a shrug.

"On your back, Granger." Draco demanded, attempting to keep a straight face as he shifted himself to hover over her again, lowering until his head until it lingered between her thighs.

* * *

**_!,i,!_**

Hours earlier, around two in the morning when they arrived at the Chateau, Draco watched her as she walked about the room. Her fingers grazed the books along the shelves on the corner shelf. She examined the stationary items on the writing desk near the bathroom. She smiled at him when she found his mother's note from the day before, scolding him for missing breakfast. She hovered near his closet, scanning the different articles of clothing and hinting that she knew what she was going to buy him for Christmas, as she thought he owned far too many black trousers. Draco didn't interrupt her. He silently reveled at the sight of her examining his belongings as she spoke of the future, of her future, the one where she saw him in it.

It wasn't until she paused beneath the bedside table that the smile fell from her face. Draco had been watching the length of her legs, admiring the curve of her skin exposed at the nape of her neck as she tossed her hair to one side, that it took him a moment to realize that she had stopped talking. Her expression was no longer teasing, but focused, and perhaps sad? He wasn't sure until he moved to stand behind her.

"I thought all your journals were destroyed in the fire at the Safe House." Her voice was hardly above a whisper. Her fingers trailed across the page of one of his new journals. She flipped to the next page and the next, each page revealing a different version of her—

"They were." Draco stepped closer to wrap his arms around her waist, gently tucking her closer and rest his cheek against hers. "I got new ones."

She seemed unable to speak, and Draco wondered if his drawing made her uncomfortable.

"And you only filled it with drawings of me?" She eventually asked, turning to face him, her fingers still lingering on one of the pages.

Draco swallowed nervously, dropping his gaze as he said, "I filled the old journals with the past, with memories I wanted to forget. I wanted to fill this one with the future, with memories I intend to keep forever."

"Draco..."

He slowly lifted his eyes to see tears were forming in her eyes. He tried to give her a small smile.

"I'm sorry if that's strange or makes you feel uncomfortable—"

"No. No. Draco, it's—" she let out a soft laugh, smiling as she turned to frame his face in her hands. Her eyes searched his for a few long moments before she added, "It's wonderful."

She pressed her lips to his, gently and he felt his body sinking into it, unable to comprehend how relieved he felt from admitting that to her. She pulled away and placed her forehead against his.

"When did you start? That first drawing looked like the day after the battle."

The corner of Draco's mouth tugged into a smile, "That's because it was. While you were jotting down details of the Battle to add to the next publication of _Hogwarts: a History, _I got the inspiration for my first drawing."

"Someone will thank me one day for doing that, you know." Hermione said, tilting back to smile at him. "Not to mention the amount of secret passages I've recorded after my mini tour of Hogwarts with Theo."

"You do know you were the only student to ever read that entire text, right?" Draco teased. "Even Ravenclaw students just skimmed the first few chapters."

"Yes, well, I'm sure once the publication office responds to my owls to get my additional chapter implemented it will improve students interest in the text immensely."

Draco laughed, "Absolutely. I couldn't agree more."

"You're just agreeing with me so we can stop talking about books, aren't you?"

Draco nodded, "Not at all."

Hermione smiled wider, leaning up to place a kiss on his lips. She reached behind her to look at one of the drawings again.

"So... your future memory journal, huh?"

"I suppose you could call it that. I was really just staring at the blank pages for awhile and then started thinking that was sort of how I felt after everything, you know?"

Hermione frowned, "Empty?"

"No." Draco shook his head, "No, not empty... just... blank."

"Blank?"

He let out a small laugh, "In a good way. Sort of."

Hermione tilted her head, unconvinced.

"Alright, it's like—" Draco lifted one hand to run through his hair and sighed, trying to put it into words. "Like a painter with a blank canvas, and my future is the canvas and I was the painter. I've never felt like that when I draw, you know? It's always been... I don't know, me trying to shove some piece of me I wanted hidden onto a page, to be forgotten. But when I sat there starring down at the blank page and then I looked up and saw you..." Draco glanced down at the journal in her hands and shrugged. "I don't know, I suppose I realized I get to decide what memories will fill these pages now, and that there's a chance that I'll like what I've created for once..."

Draco shook his head, unsure if he was making any sense.

"Anyway..." he gestured to a drawing of Hermione sleeping, "... this is as far as I've gotten so far—"

Before he could finish his sentence Hermione was kissing him again, fiercely, as if she was determined to give him another memory to place within his journal.

_*****_

But as things tended to happen for Draco, the day had unraveled for the worse after his blissful, much needed alone time with Hermione. Just as Draco was leaving his mother's office and was about to Floo to Potter's to meet Hermione for dinner he received a Minstry Owl from the Head Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Dreading the visit, but knowing he couldn't refuse, he quickly wrote an apology to Hermione for having to miss dinner and promised to visit after his meeting.

* * *

_**!i!**_

_*****_

**INSIDERS GUIDE TO THE WIZARDING WORLD HEROES:  
**

**WHERE ARE THEY NOW? **

_(EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEWS FROM THOSE CLOSEST TO THE MAN WHO KEEPS ON LIVING, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS THE BOY WHO LIVED OR THE CHOSEN ONE: HARRY POTTER — _full story, pg 6)

By the Daily Prophet's Gossip Correspondent, 

RITA SKEETER

There is truth — and then there is Truth.

You've heard it all before, Harry Potter ended the war by defeating Lord Voldemort on the 8th of May, 1998 during the Battle of Hogwarts; one of the most momentous occasions recorded in Wizarding World history, but you've never heard it like this. Follow me, Rita Skeeter, on a journey to Truth, where I will uncover what life looks like now for the Heroes of the crucial war, and how our beloved Chosen One continues to conceal secrets of that fateful day. 

No one can be certain of the exact details of what led to the end of the war, or how Harry Potter was able to outsmart the darkest wizard of our time, but what we can be certain of, it that there is plenty to be discovered. 

As devoted fans and followers will remember, Harry Potter's two closest associates, the ones who know everything about him and yet have refused interviews with the press on every occasion, none other than Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, the two who were with him every step of the way. Are they afraid of him, or is it their own secrets they are afraid will leak out, tarnishing the myth of He Who Could Not Be Named's defeat? Could it be that Hermione Granger, known femme fatale of the group, could possibly be resentful of her and Weasley's known on again off again relationship, to only end with him in the arms of another, a one Alice Dearborn (see pg. 10)? Perhaps, the two have too much to hide, too much the Chosen One prefers to remain a secret? 

Then there are those members of Dumbledore's Army who fought diligently along side Potter as well, some who can give us insight on what the trio is determined to keep hidden from their devoted admirers (Selfish and ungrateful? I'll let you decide)

One always hesitates to invade the privacy of young people, but the fact is that anyone closely connected with Harry Potter reaps the benefits and must pay the penalty of public interest; and the first to pay the price will be the two lovely subjects of my first interview: both newly appointed Hogwarts professors— the delightfully eccentric, Luna Lovegood, now teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, and her fiancé, new professor of Herbology, Neville Longbottom...

*****

**!,i,!**

**12 Grimmauld Place**

Hermione's fingers curled around the Daily Prophet, her heated gaze focused intently on the article before her. She was becoming increasingly annoyed with the amount of publications circling about the press concerning her and many of the people she loved, as if the Death Eater Trials coverage, the fame of being 1/3 of Harry Potter's Trio, preparing to sit for her N.E.W.T.S wasn't enough, Rita Skeeter was adamant on tacking on mindless gossip and rumors to Hermione's list of Mildly Inconvenient Problems (mildly inconvenient in the sense that any problem one faces after years of trying to prevent a tyrant from overthrowing the government and murdering your best friend seems insignificant by comparison)

She continued scanning the atrocious article as she sipped her coffee and made her way to join Harry and Theo in the living room of Grimmauld Place. Harry's Godfather's home, previously the residency to those belonging to the ancient and noble house of Black, had become a sort of dumping ground of those left orphaned after the war. Hermione had taken residence without much consideration for other options, seeing as she didn't have any, and the others who joined her and Harry were there as a result of similar circumstances.

The other residents included:

Remus and Teddy Lupin, both of which had little choice in the matter as Harry refused to let Remus consider living anywhere else. He wanted to be in Teddy's life as much as possible. Their former professor was never one to accept hand outs, but once Hermione insisted someone needed to live there while she and Harry returned to Hogwarts for their last year, Remus eventually agreed.

Pansy Parkinson (both parents in Azkaban) and Daphne Greengrass (disowned by her parents) were also crashing there for the time being, as Pansy still had a month until she could touch her inheritance. Both witches were currently apartment hunting as they were in the process of being granted full custody of Yury— one of the surviving recruits, whose twin sister Roza was killed during the battle at the Safe House.

Dean Thomas stayed with them for the first two weeks following the battle, but recently moved out to live with his new fiancé, both of which still frequented Grimmauld for social visits.

And on rare occasion Theo, though he often disappeared for days on end without much explanation. Hermione wasn't certain where he lived, and the few times she asked, she was often given a vague descriptions of several different places Hermione was certain couldn't possible exist.

Hermione plopped down, rather forcefully, onto the sofa across from Harry and Theo. The former of the two sat on the sofa with his knees on either side of Theo, who sat before him on the floor. Hermione was so engrossed with picking apart the absurdity of the article that she hardly payed attention to the conversation she was interrupting.

"This woman is a menace!" Hermione announced with a huff, keeping her narrowed eyes on the parchment in her lap, just as Theo began lifting the catalogue: Furniture of Elegance and Immaculate Taste,"—what do you think of this one?"

"I like it." Harry answered simply, both wizards promptly ignoring Hermione as she continued mumbling off handed comments to herself. She often did this, and both wizards had become accustomed to not responding until she was intentionally seeking a response by speaking to one of them directly.

"Honestly! She's— _oh that is so not true!_" Hermione exclaimed to no one. "She's in Italy for Quidditch training you insufferable toe rag of a reporter!"

"You say that about all of them, Harry." Theo said as he flipped to the next page in the catalog that displayed photos of color pallets and curtains, all of which looked the exact same to Harry. "If you insist on my staying the night so often you'll need to be more cooperative. I will not spend another morning waking up to those ghastly brown drapes, and don't get me started on the green duvet, whoever decorated this place should spend the entirety of their days in Azkaban for subjecting their family to such torture."

Harry let out a small laugh as he leaned forward to rest his chin on Theo's head, wrapping his arms lazily over his shoulders to drape across his chest. "I think I can reverse the silencing charm Remus placed on Walburga's portrait if you'd like to have a word with her, give her a piece of your mind, let her know how disagreeable you find her tastes. I think I'll even share a few choice words on the mounted elf heads in the drawing room."

Theo tilted his head to frown at Harry. "You joke, Potter, but you won't be laughing when you find yourself waking up with no one to accommodate your kinky spooning habits."

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, "You wouldn't."

Theo shrugged, "Give an opinion on the shade of Topaz and we can pretend that threat never happened."

"This article is preposterous! How do people even believe this rubbish—?" Hermione had yet to lift her head to inform Harry and Theo that she was expecting a response, so they both promptly decided not to.

Harry glanced down at the catalogue and placed his finger on a random picture. "Fine. That one's nice."

Theo sighed, "Of course you would choose Imperial Topaz, bloody Gryffindor."

Harry brought his mouth to Theo's ear and gently nipped at the lobe. "I don't respond well to threats, Nott. You know mornings with you are sacred and should not be used against me."

Theo smiled as he tilted his head away from Harry's mouth. "I wouldn't have to if your curtains, as well as everything else in this manor, weren't so hideous and scarring to the eyes."

Theo felt Harry's grip tighten slightly around his shoulders. Harry paused before responding, lowering his voice, "Would you stay if it weren't?"

When Theo didn't answer Harry placed a finger under his chin, forcing him to meet his stare.

"Change whatever you want." Harry said, his voice earnest and soft as his eyes searched Theo's. "Redecorate every room if you'd like."

Theo just stared back at him, and slowly inhaled a breath. Just as he was about to respond Hermione had an another outburst.

"HA!— '_hesitates to invade privacy_' my arse! Can you believe that Harry?"

Theo released a grateful sight, immediately turning his attention to the outraged witch holding up the paper for them. Theo took the opportunity to untangle himself form Harry's arms to reach for his glass of whisky on the table, and returned to sit beside Harry on the sofa. Harry's full attention was on Hermione now.

"The woman wouldn't understand the word privacy if—"

"—someone transformed her into a small insect and explained the definition at length to her?" Harry interrupted with a wink before reaching for his own glass.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry.

Theo glanced between the two, his glass stilling in its path lips. "Is that a thing that happened?"

Hermione scoffed, "Of course it isn't, Theo! Don't be ridiculous..."

Hermione promptly avoided eye contact with Theo, returning her attention back to the article, though Theo was certain he saw her cheeks begin to flush.

Harry reached across the space between the two sofas to swipe the daily prophet from Hermione's grasp.

"Harry! I wasn't finished—"

Hermione gaped at Harry as he began crumpling the paper and tossed it to the ground. He pulled out his wand and seconds later the ball of paper slowly transfigured itself into the shape of a beetle. Hermione watched, wide eyed and slightly amused, as the insect shaped parchment scurried across the floor, bumping into Theo's foot, before darting towards the fireplace and hopping into the flames.

"There." Harry said, replacing his wand to his pocket. "Problem solved."

"Problem not solved, Harry James Potter!" Hermione said. "That article was mostly about you! She's a woman obsessed—"

"Can't say I blame her." Theo mumbled behind his glass.

Harry tried to ignore his face heating as he turned to Hermione, "There's no sense in giving it any attention, 'Mione. I prefer to pretend Skeeter doesn't exist."

"I like her." Theo said and raised his hand as Hermione opened her mouth to begin hurling her opinions at him. "I enjoy her stories, rather. They never fail to excite. There's something so... so..."

Theo ran his fingers over his lips as he searched for the right word.

"Full of deceit?" Hermione offered innocently, "— Absurd slander? False claims that damage reputations of honorable people?"

Theo sighs, "Well, I was going to say entertaining, but I suppose perspective is necessary to consider."

"Perspective?" She asked.

"Yes. Perspective. The difference between you and I, my dear Granger, is that I am of no importance and otherwise inconsequential to the Wizarding World, and therefore, I imagine it's easier for me to be less concerned with my lack of reputation as it were. And thus, I find her broad imagination amusing."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, and smirked at him. "And how will you feel, I wonder, when Rita Skeeter gets wind of the two of you? It's only a matter of time with her sticking her impossibly infuriating nose in the lives of all our friends, which is exactly what that article was about. Not to mention her hell-bent vendetta to expose Harry for some unknown reason."

"Does she need a reason?" Harry laughed, "I don't think she's ever had a valid reason to be interested in me, and yet—"

"Yes," Theo interjected with a teasing smirk, "—because being the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, helping an escaped fugitive, entering the Tri-Wizard Tournament, breaking into the Department of Mysteries and Gringott's, facing Voldemort, dying, coming back to life, facing him again, winning and thus saving the Wizarding World—" Theo let out a much needed breath, "— none of that warrants unnecessary interest. How could someone be so infatuated, I wonder?"

Harry grimaced into his glass before taking a sip. "Point made."

Theo shifted closer to Harry, tossing his arm lazily over his shoulders before turning to adresss Hermione, "For me _personally_ though, my infatuation has less to do with all of those minor accomplishments."

Harry lifted an amused brow, "Oh? Is that so?"

"Mhm," Theo brought his glass to his lips, eyeing Harry over the rim, "—it has nothing to do with any of that and _entirely_ to do with the size of your—"

"NOPE!" Hermione said loudly, clasping her hands over her ears. "NO! Theo! You swore it! You swore you would stop subjecting me to your disturbingly vivid descriptions of Harry's anatomy!"

Theo shrugged, unfazed as Harry grinned uncontrollably into his glass.

Harry offered her a sip and she quickly accepted it, "But to your point, 'Mione, Skeeter is just as likely to get wind of you and Draco as she is to hear about me and Theo."

"Yes, well," Hermione let out a long sigh after taking two additional sips of whisky, "I'm not the one who insists we must remain a secret. Am I?"

"That's hardly fair, Granger. It's not like it's for his benefit." Theo said.

"No. I know. I know. I'm not complaining." Hermione stretched her mouth into an absurdly wide grin, "See— this is me _not_ complaining."

Harry and Theo tilted their heads to the side, examining her expression.

"You look a bit more like you're trying to hold in a fart." Harry said after a beat.

Hermione tossed the pillow next to her at Harry's head, "You're deplorable."

Harry caught the pillow, tucked it beneath his arm and winks at her. "Aren't I? It's a mystery why the public finds me so unbelievably charming."

Hermione scoffed, "Well, they certainly don't accuse you of being modest."

"No. They reserve that adjective specifically for Draco." Theo sarcastically added, making the three of them laugh. Theo shifted on the sofa then, tossing his legs across Harry's lap and resting his back against the arm of the sofa. "You know we should have kept that article. Could have had a very interesting game of Drink-For-Every-Phrase."

Hermione frowned, "Come again?"

"Right, forgot... not many drinking games were played in the Gryffindor Common Room then?" Theo asked.

"We were sort of busy if you don't recall—" Hermione clipped, "— between studying and avoiding being murdered and what not."

"I have mentioned how much I enjoy you when you're tipsy." Theo asked with a grin. "Your true Slytherin side shines through."

"I've asked her to limit her interactions with all Slytherins, but she's yet to heed my advice," said Harry.

Hermione just stuck out her tongue, shifting to lay out on the sofa across from them and lifting her head to rest against her palm.

"Well, Drink-For-Every-Phrase is a game we played fairly often in the Slytherin Common Room. Zabini was the one to come up with the premise, I think, during 4th year when Skeeter was publishing articles about each of the Champions almost hourly, most of them covering the useless information like what Viktor Krum's ideal breakfast would be or what color best matched Cedric Diggory's eyes and what have you—"

"Repulsive, isn't it?" Hermione chimed in with a smug grin.

Theo lifted an amused brow, "I never said I didn't enjoy them, Granger."

"I believe that, actually. Carry on, though. What was the objective of this game...?"

"Well, as a rule, everyone needed to be tested to ensure they hadn't read the article prior to playing, so after that—"

"Wait—" Hermione said, "—how exactly did you check? Not Veritaserum?"

"I'll let your imagination piece that one together." Theo waved his hand loftily as if it hardly mattered, and continued, "—anyway so once that was done, each person would predict a word of phrase they thought would show up in the article, and for every word that someone got right, the others were to take a shot. If you predicted an entire phrase, the others took a shot for the exact amount of words. But obviously it couldn't be simple words like someone's name or which school they represented. It had to be more specific."

"How often did people actually guess right?" Harry asked.

"Oh, every single article at least two to three people got a couple phrases. Remember that article about Fleur Delacour? The one where Skeeter ranted about Fleur's hidden agenda to win by way of seducing the other Champions? Well, Draco predicted Skeeter would describe Fleur as 'an elegant temptress no man should cross', and that phrase showed up three different times." Theo let out a small laugh, "So 7 words total. That night I think between me and Zabini we finished off two bottles of Firewhisky.".

Harry tilted his head to look at Theo, "That wouldn't have been the same night you found me by the Black Lake was it?"

Theo smirked, "Why? Are you wondering if the only reason I kissed you was because I was drunk, Potter?"

Hermione bolted upright, releasing a loud gasp, staring directly at Harry. "THEO KISSED YOU IN 4TH YEAR AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?!"

"I suppose Skeeter must be on to something after all." Harry said slyly and shrugged, "I'm a secretive guy. What can I say?"

"I heard shouting!"

All three of them glanced at the entry way to see a very ruffled, half asleep Remus Lupin in his pajamas holding a slipper in his hand, pointing it into the room.

"Remus. That's a slipper, not your wand." Harry said calmly.

Remus glanced down at his slipper and then slowly blinked around the room.

"Right."

"Sorry we woke you." Hermione said. "We'll be quieter."

"Oh, it's quite alright." Remus said as he rubbed his eyes and seemed to slowly wake up. "Still no word for Draco, then?"

Harry shook his head.

Hermione tucked on leg under her, "Are you sure Kingsley didn't tell you what he wanted to meet with him about?''

"I'm afraid I'm no longer privy to official Ministry business." Remus offered Hermione a small smile.

"So it is official Ministry business?" Theo asked. "You think it has to do with his mother's trial or something to do with him?"

"It's difficult to be certain, but I think it was important enough for Kingsley to want to warn him about it before anyone else got wind of it in the Auror department."

"Warn him or interrogate him first?" Theo asked. "This is the second time he's requested him after hours, and he's not allowed to discuss it with anyone because of that fucking charmed privacy contract Kingsley's made him abide to."

"Kingsley's just being thorough, Theo." Harry said. "I'm sure they just want Draco to clear up some details on another Death Eater case or something."

"Let me know would you?" Remus said, "Teddy's still down for the night and I'm determined to see this one through with minor accidents if possible."

"We will." Hermione said. Remus gave them all a comforting smile before disappearing up the stairs.

There was a long silence in Remus' wake and eventually Theo stood to his feet, reaching for his coat and pulling it on.

"Where are you going? It's almost midnight." Harry asked.

"I'm going to head over to the Chateau. See if Narcissa has heard anything."

"Draco told us he would come straight here—" Hermione started, but Theo still moved towards the Floo.

"I know. Just doesn't feel right sitting around, you know?" Theo reached for the Floo powder.

"I'll come with you—"

"It's fine," Theo insisted with a small smile, "You two wait here. I've got another stop to make anyway."

Hermione glanced from Theo to see Harry watching Theo with an expression she knew he was trying not to say something.

"Alright." Harry said, giving Theo a curt nod. "See you."

Theo took two quick strides forward and leaned down to place a soft kiss on Harry's lips, "Soon. I'll see you _soon_."

Once Theo was gone Hermione waited, knowing Harry needed a moment.

"I think I spooked him."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, moving across the room to sit next to him. He molded into her side instantly, letting out a soft sigh.

"I asked him to redecorate." Harry said, gesturing his hand around to the manor. "Told him he could change whatever he wanted."

Hermione smiled, "Was that your way of asking him to move in?"

"I don't know." Harry groaned as he buried his head into the pillow in her lap.

Hermione laughed, attempting to sooth her friend by combing her fingers through his unruly hair.

"Well, do you want him to move in?"

"I want him to be here all the time?" Harry glanced up at her, lifting a brow, "Is that the same?"

Hermione nodded, unable to stop her smile from stretching across her face as Harry groaned into the pillow again.

"Does he ever say where it is he's actually disappearing off to?"

"Not really," Harry sighed, "I don't really want to ask either."

"Why?"

"You know how he is. He's so used to harboring all these secrets inside him, and it's like he doesn't even realize he's doing it either. It's like a reflex or something. Like he's scared I'll see something I don't like and just bolt."

_Theo deserves someone to stay..._

Hermione remembered Daphne's words from months ago and nodded, "That makes sense, you know, considering his past."

"Hermione. Look who you're talking to. If anyone understands difficult childhoods that lead to adulthood traumas, it's me."

Hermione smacked him on the shoulder lightly, "It's not a competition."

"I know. All I'm saying is..." Harry's brow pulled tight, there was a earnest vulnerability in his expression as he turned to look at her, "— well, that I don't think there's anything he could show me that would make me stop wanting him. It's him for me. I know it is."

Hermione felt her heart swell as she regarded her best friend. His eyes were closed now, and as Hermione ran her hands soothingly through his hair she was reminded of all the times she dreamt of Harry being like this, back when neither of them were certain if they would survive another day.

Every day since the war was over she would get glimpses of her best friend and she wouldn't be able to stop smiling, sometimes crying, as she thought of how much he deserved to be happy, how much he deserved to just live. She noticed it more often whenever Theo was around. She would catch Harry staring at him while they were surrounded by a group of people and he was telling a story. Harry's eyes would fixate on Theo and for the first time in a long time, Hermione would notice his shoulders relax, his lips curl into a half smile, and his eyes fill with a brightness that had been dull for so long.

"Maybe you just need to show him that. Make him believe it."

"Yeah..." Harry hummed, already drifting off to sleep. "Maybe you're right."

Hermione shut her eyes and tilted her head to rest on the back of the sofa. "Wouldn't be the first time..."

* * *

**A/N**: Hello, this chapter is meant to sort of lay out what it is our characters have been doing the summer following the Battle of Hogwarts. There are several other characters we have yet to catch up with, and many 'side plot/projects *cough cough*' that may be unclear at the moment, but never fear... I am steadily typing away to get another chapter out so your not left in anticipation for too long. The responses to this story over the last few days have given me life, so thank you all for being so rad!


	35. Ever & Afters (III)

**Hogwarts: Desperate Enough to Hire a Criminal?**

**[Should Parents be Concerned for Children's Safety? What is the New Headmistress Thinking?]**

_By the Daily Prophet's Gossip Correspondent, RITA SKEETER_

_It appears that once one becomes a media socialite, one always desires to remain in the spotlight, and some people can not keep from ensuring their lives are news worthy. This can be true to describe none other than Narcissa Malfoy, the same witch whose name has been in the last several publications of the Daily Prophet and the topic of every headline in societal magazines alike; the very same witch who still awaits an official date for her second hearing to answer for her involvements in aiding Lord Voldemort. _

_This attention-seeking behavior appears to not have fazed our beloved War Heroine and newly appointed Head Mistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall. Though, we cannot fault her entirely for this slight misjudgment of character without considering who she must have learned this habit from. Yes, you guessed it, Albus Dumbledore. It begs the question whether the new Headmistress is truly the best woman for the job if she intends to continue follow in the late wizard's footsteps, making all the similar mistakes to his own. _

_To read more about and explore the long list of the unqualified teachers brought on by the ringleader of questionable lessons disguised as education himself, you can purchase my best seller published just last year: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore..._

**_!,i,!_**

Muggle coffee shops, in Theo's humble opinion, were utterly fascinating; granted Theo was often one to look for the diamond in the rough, so to speak, in every situation, which is not to say that he was optimistic, certainly not— no, Theo was just observant, exceedingly so; and this allowed him to see minute, extraneous, elaborate details that many others simply moved to quickly to pay attention to, or rather didn't bother with paying attention at all.

Take Hermione Granger for example, Theo considered thoughtfully, the witch is opposite of him in every possible way when it comes to how they internally process things. She is highly logical and because of that, she over looks said extraneous details to help her perceive clearly that which lament folk of simple minds, such as Ronald Weasley or Blaise Zabini, have a tendency to miss.

So in conclusion, Theo believed he and Granger's perceptions on the world existed on two opposite sides of the spectrum, which is possibly why he felt it exceedingly difficult to escape her accusing stare every time he needed to escape her and Harry's company. Without her, Theo was certain he could easily avoid topics of conversation that steered to his whereabouts whenever they surfaced.

Harry wasn't as determined to question him, which may be a result of Theo's very persuasive redirecting of conversations tactic [read, sexual favors, a lot of sexual favors, given willingly and enthusiastically, and mostly for the greater good] — and it worked, that was, until Hermione had begun asking Harry more and more questions about where Theo ran off to; then it was as if Theo couldn't go a day without being forced to brush off Harry's questions.

Questions like:

'_Hermione just mentioned that you've never really told us where you lived, don't you think it's strange that I've never seen your home?'_

To which Theo had to come up with some elaborate exaggeration, _not a lie mind you_, Theo didn't care to lie to Harry. He hated it actually. He was adamant to _never_ lie to him.

So his response usually sounded something like:

'_Not much of a home, really. Lot of bad memories there, you know? I don't really like taking people there.'_

Usually, Harry would nod in understanding and drop the topic without much of a fuss.

It wasn't a lie. Theo hated Nott Manor.

Of course Harry didn't know that Theo hadn't actually been back to his father's Manor since the war ended, or that he had zero intentions of returning any time in the near future.

He contemplated burning it more than once, but that would require him stepping foot on his father's land and Theo did not want to think of his father, or any of his past for that matter.

Not to mention that Harry couldn't find out where he actually ran off to—

But that was besides the point at the moment, right now Theo was on a mission; the very mission that was the cause of his random disappearances and elaborate explanations (_not lies_).

So, as Theo observed moments ago... Muggle Coffee Shops: fascinating.

Theo would watch muggles sit there for hours on end staring at these strange square screens that he overheard one muggle referring to it as a _legtop, and possibly something to do with Apples and Windows? Or was it laptop?_ — Anyway, they would stare at these things, not even bothering to talk to anyone around them. Theo respected the silence. He thought maybe wizards could take a cue from them on this matter. Theo hated being addressed by strangers in public, not that he got out much; but what he truly found fascinating had much more to do with their clothing choices, which Theo could only honestly describe as brilliantly bizarre, and he imagined borderline uncomfortable.

Not many muggles at Hogwarts wore much outside of denim jeans— which Theo found a new appreciation for after eyeing Harry in a particularly tight pair the other day— and t-shirts; but these muggles were a much more eccentric... ranging from, what Theo learned the appropriate word for said styles being, punk-pop (tight skirts, bright colored accessories, mid drift reveal: optional) and Theo's preferred look, grunge (torn jeans, white shirts and flannels)

Theo had taken up wearing all black just to be safe, but he did snag a rather flashy pair of Slytherin green laced up combat boots with tiny white stars spattered across them and a string that the muggles referred to as a '_choker_' — (not as painful as Theo imagined it would be, much to his disappointment) — that he thought helped him fit into the style category of '_grunge_'. He was meant to be blending in, but Draco never said anything about not giving the mission a slice of flare.

(Draco did **specifically** **mention** for Theo to _**not**__** add any 'Theo flare'** _to the missionand to **_refrain from said urge_ **_**completely**, _and_ **Please for the love of Merlin, Theo, I beg of you. No flare!**)_

_But_, Theo reminded himself thoughtfully, _Draco was not here. **So fuck it! **Black Choker and Green combat boots with stars it is!_

These were just some of the minor observations Theo made during his first week on his mission, which began a week after the battle. Draco sent him into the '_muggle trenches'_ so to speak, with little more than a flimsy piece of parchment with his instructions to infiltrate their target. Said piece of parchment contained a list of words and phrases written in Draco's delicate scrawl. Each week since the first day of Theo's mission, a new set of words were added to the list for him. They appeared on the charmed parchment whenever Draco would add to his own charmed twin copy.

Currently, the list sat a total of ten words or phrases, that acted as trigger words.

_***List of Trigger Words***_

**_(1) Teeth __(2) London __(3) Red Bicycle __(4) The Beatles: specifically Paul McCartney __(5) White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Cookies __(6) Hampstead Garden Suburb __(7) Rainy Sunday Movie Marathon __(8) Shakespeare's 'A Winter's Tale' __(9) Dentistry __(10) Jean_**

It was, perhaps, not as exciting of a mission as Theo had clambered up in his mind, but it was important to Draco, so...

Here he was: standing behind a counter in a muggle coffee shop with a bright blue apron wrapped around his waist that read: **_Cabrito Coffee Traders._**, frowning at what the manger, Lionel Andrews, referred to as a '_cash register'._

"G'day mate, how's it?"

Theo glanced up at the customer who had just approached the opposite side of the counter, trying not to look as confused as he felt. The man was young, probably in his early twenties, tall, skinny, and smiled far too wide for only having just woken up in Theo's opinion.

"May I interest you in a brisket?" Theo offered stoically. Lionel, the manager, had suggested Theo always offer a brisket to the customer, even if they insisted they didn't want one. Theo thought it would be much more convenient to simply let the customers inform him of what they wished to have, but he was meant to be '_blending in', _so...

His innate desire to always question authority figures had to take '_the back seat_' for the time being (a muggle expression Theo overheard and it stuck).

"No. That'll be o'llright mate. Just a plain brew for me."

"Riiiiight. A. Plain. brew." Theo nodded slowly, scanning the _legtop? Laptop? _Screen thing with the photos of tiny food on it, inwardly cringing at his lack of competency.

_It's just bloody pictures of muffins Theo, _he inwardly chided himself,_ just fucking tap one like Lionel showed you and get on with it!_

"That'll be 3 pounds." Theo said eventually, not sure if the yellow bland looking donut photo was considered a '_plain brew_', but fuck it.

"Is that right, mate?" The customer asked with a smile, shaking his head as he reached into his wallet. "Lionel must have lifted the prices. Suppose he'd need to, tourist season and all. No worries. Here you are."

Theo didn't respond. He just took the money and placed it in the register. The man laughed again, not moving to walk to the other end of the counter. Theo just blinked back. Usually the customers walked away by now.

"The change, mate?" The customer said lifting an amused brow.

Theo felt a large hand on his shoulder and immediately stepped away from it. He also hated being touched by strangers, but really who didn't? Lionel was grinning wide at him and glancing at the customer as he pat his hands on his apron. Theo glanced at where Lionel's hand had just been on his shoulder and suppressed to urge to roll his eyes. _Fucking flour all over his black shirt, fucking moron._

"Alright there Charlie?" Lionel gave the customer a nod and then frowned down at the screen with the photo of the donut Theo had just chosen. "Oh that's a rite crike!" Lionel laughed, shaking his head as he pressed some more photos and reached into the register to give the customer, _Charlie?, _the right change. "Sorry bout that chap. Elliot here's new, still learning the ropes and all. I'll have your brew for you in a bit."

"Cheers, mate." Charlie nodded at Lionel and gave Theo a curt nod before walking away.

Theo tucked his hands in his pockets, hardly listening as Lionel began explaining what he did wrong. It didn't matter. Theo was not here to become a muggle barista. In fact, the reason he _was_ there had just entered the cafe, and just in time too, as Theo was growing impatient, and he also was growing to hate muggles on account of Lionel's excessive '_friendly_' touching.

"G'day Monica! G'day Wendell!" Lionel announced cheerily, turning his attention to the older couple who just came up to the counter like clockwork.

It had taken Theo a few days to track them down and learn their schedules, but with magic, it proved to be easier than expected. Not to mention the woman's honey colored eyes and the man's unruly curly hair had given them away almost immediately.

"Will it be the usual, then?" Lionel asked.

"Yes, please. Only two sugars for Wendell, though. Trying to watch the calories, this one." Monica Wilkins said brightly, giving Theo's manager a very familiar smile.

"But if you happen to over pour, Lionel, I won't make a fuss." Wendell, the man with unruly hair and glasses that framed his youthful face, said with a wink.

"I can make those, if you'd rather catch up." Theo said to Lionel, who nodded and turned back to chatting to the couple.

Theo hurried to make the only two drinks he bothered remembering how to make, and reached into his pocket for the small vial Draco had given him. He poured two drops of the potion in each drink, stirred them, and returned to the counter, handing the couple their drinks.

"Would either of you care for a straw?" Theo asked, "Wouldn't want to stain your _**teeth**_."

The couple turned to Theo then, Wendell's brow pulled together in confusion as if he seemed to be trying to remember something but couldn't. His frown deepened as he blinked down at his drink. Theo glanced over to see Monica eyeing her husband warily, a similar expression on her gentle features, before glancing back at Theo.

"That won't be necessary. Thank you, dear." Monica gave him that familiar smile again. "Elliot, wasn't it? How has your second week been so far? I never thought Lionel would ever hire help. He hardly trusts his own brother with this place."

"It's been going alright. A lot to learn." Theo said politely, easily taking on his new persona and answering to Elliot. Beside him Lionel was frowning in confusion as if he hadn't a clue why Theo was standing there in an apron. _Bloody Imperious Curse wears off faster than Harry's Sleek Easy Hair gel, _Theo noted inwardly as he reached into his pocket and gripped his wand.

A moment later, Lionel began laughing, placing a tight grip on Theo's shoulder. Theo clenched his jaw, tempted to use another particularly inconvenient spell on the man so he would stop touching his shoulder.

"Elliot's wonderful help. He's picked it up rather quickly. Very bright this one," said Lionel. "Excuse me, I've got a few drinks to get to. Lovely seeing you as usual."

Monica and Wendell waved him off and turned their attention back to Theo.

"I'm not sure if we asked you last time we were here, but I noticed the accent. Whereabouts of England are you from, Elliot?" Wendell asked Theo suddenly, seeming to return from his strange daze after Theo planted his regular trigger word. Theo hadn't the faintest clue why '**_teeth_**' would be relevant to a pair of muggles, but he decided he probably didn't want to know either.

"Just outside of London, actually." Theo lied smoothly, watching the expressions on the couples faces scrunch into confused concentration once more. "My parents live in the Hampstead Garden Suburb, but I lived in my own flat for while before picking up to settle here in Sydney. I preferred the busy streets and excitement of the city, but really fell in love with the music scene..."

"Ah, ah— Don't tell me—" Wendell grinned, snapping his fingers once and pointed at Theo, "Rolling Stones fan?"

"Well as much as I'd love to have a chance to hear Mick Jagger live, I have to admit, I'm a tad cliche... Massive **_Beatles_** fan. No one sings quite like **_Paul McCartney_**."

Theo, in all reality, had _**absolutely no fucking clue**_ who or what he was talking about. He was grateful for he inherited superb acting skills and a photographic memory from one of his dead relatives somewhere down the line, though they were probably lunatic murderers, so a waster really. But Theo knew he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Draco didn't give him enough credit.

"Did you hear that, Wendell." Monica said, giving her husband a light slap to his shoulder (much like a certain curly haired witch tended to do on occasion to everyone around her). "A young man whose got decent taste, and they say our youth is doomed."

Theo smirked, leaning forward conspiratorially against the counter to whisper to them both, "I can confidently confirm that fact still remains, as I am I the perfect personification of doomed youth." Theo leaned back then and shrugged, "—or so I've been told on multiple occasions."

Monica and Wendell both laughed, and Theo had to force himself to focus because in that split second as they blushed and their eyes squinted he could see their daughters features light up on both of their faces.

"Now, that, I find hard to believe." Monica said. "Charming would be more accurate to describe you I would think—"

"Now. Now. Monica." Wendell chided, "I'm not dead yet. No need to start replacing me with a younger version already—"

"I'm certain I could never measure up to you, Mr. Wilkins." Theo shot him a wink.

Wendell snapped and pointed at him again, "Good man."

"Well, we should be off before my husband misinterprets my innocent banter for a marriage proposal." said Monica.

"Ah, before you go—" Theo said, reaching down to grab a small bag with two pastries inside. He extended the bag over to Wendell and grinned, "—On me... For my two favorite customers who've made this stranger feel welcomed into the big city. Two freshly baked **_white chocolate macadamia nut cookies_**."

Monica glanced inside the bag and let out a small laugh. When she looked back up at Theo, her smile faded into a frown again, Theo could see both her and Wendell's gaze gloss over again and he decided his mission for the day was completed successfully.

"Right then. See you both next time." Theo said briskly, unwrapping his apron and heading to the door.

_**!,i,!**_  


Every ounce of happiness that lingered from his perfect morning with Hermione was slowly evaporating from existence as he walked through the empty halls of Hogwarts. His mind was reeling with what Kingsley could possibly be summoning him for after hours, and as if that wasn't stressful enough the universe seemed adamant to remind him that this wouldn't be the last of his problems for the night— and that reminder came in the form of a petit blond witch who happened to be skipping along the corridor and heading his way.

"Draco! Draco!"

Draco groaned inwardly, wishing, not for the first time, that he could steal Potter's invisibility cloak for times such as these. Draco was certain he would put the cloak to much better use than what antics Potter got up to with it.

On second thought, Draco reconsidered, cringing inwardly at the memory of tripping over said wizard and Theo tangled around one another on the kitchen floor of Grimmauld place, both of whom were decent enough to keep their debauchery concealed beneath the cloak, but Draco was scarred nevertheless; and adamantly refused to touch the cloak after that horrible experience.

He also learned a very valuable lesson: never leave Hermione's room in the night for absolutely anything, ever. Potter's proclivity for christening every inch of the house with Draco's best friend was enough to cause Draco to hesitate to enter any _seemingly empty_ room at Grimmauld place. It was becoming a terrible inconvenience for Draco since Hermione insisted they sleep there if he wanted to spend the night with her. He had even begun to go as far as announcing himself whenever he entered a room in hopes that Theo or Harry would have the decency to warn him of their whereabouts, which of course Theo and Potter caught onto his discomfort and saw to making it worse by spooking him on purpose instead, like they both received some sick enjoyment from fucking with Draco— _Incorrigible_-_Sex-Crazed-Idiots deserve each other, Draco thought fondly._

"Luna." Draco greeted curtly, willing the image of Theo's leg flung out from under the invisibility cloak and Potters arm beneath it firmly out of his brain, _preferably forever, maybe he convince Granger to obliviate him?_

"I'm so glad I ran into you." Luna said calmly as she pointed over her shoulder. "There seems to be something happening with the potion you left to simmer in Professor Snape's old office."

Draco's eyes flew open. "What do you mean _something's happening_? What's it doing, Lovegood?"

"Hmm..." Luna hummed as she lifted her hands in front of her face. Then she scrunched them together into fists before expanding her fingers outwards, making a noise that Draco assumed was meant to be some sort of explosion. "It's doing something like that."

Draco felt his throat go dry and he quickly sprinted down the hall and shoved open Snape's office door. His eyes immediately landing on one of the cauldrons that was, indeed, on the verge of exploding once more.

"FUCK—" Draco said, quickly reaching for the door and slamming it shut.

He pressed his back to it as Luna rounded the corner to come join him. They both flinched, shoulders raising slightly, as the sound of whatever contents in the cauldron promptly spewed all over the inside of the office.

"That's the noise I was attempting to make." Luna said with a tilt of her head. "I think I failed to convey it's urgency."

Draco shut his eyes and let out a long breath as he banged the back of his head against the door. He did not have time for this.

What just exploded on the other side of the door was weeks worth of effort spent creating enough Wolfsbane potion for Remus, Pansy, Daphne, and Yury in time for the next Full. After scanning Snape's belongings, Draco spent days studying his detailed notes on the concoction and attempting to perfect it, which was proving more difficult than Draco initially thought— not to mention he hardly had enough time to even sleep these days, but since Snape wasn't around to make it anymore, Draco was determined to get it right before Remus ran out of what little he had stored away, which happened to only be one serving each for the four of them. They would survive this Full, but if Draco didn't get it right with the next batch—

_No, Draco thought, that wasn't an option. He would just have to start over right away. Kingsley could wait another hour or so._

"If you'd like I could help you clean up the mess." Luna said, either unaware of his distress or choosing to ignore it.

Draco tried to give her grateful smile, but he was sure he hardly did more than grimace.

"I think I'll have to take you up on that offer." Draco sighed as he stepped away and nodded at the door. "Suppose we should start by making sure it isn't going to explode again first, yeah?"

"That would probably be best." Luna confirmed slowly peering into the office in case another explosion happened to choose that moment to erupt.

Draco, though he didn't admit it, felt slightly relieved to have Luna assisting him. She hardly asked questions and was strangely more intuitive than he would have guessed. She was reviewing Draco's revised notes on Snape's instructions and making odd comments here and there as Draco prepared the necessary ingredients. They were quiet for a long stretch of about twenty minutes, Luna silently observing while Draco calculated the correct stirring rotations and temperature of the flame beneath the cauldron. Draco almost forgot she was sitting across from him after awhile, getting so lost in his work.

_This is right. This makes sense. This I can do._

His own thoughts filled the silence and for the first time in awhile he felt some semblance of peace outside of being with Hermione. He supposed he always did find a special sense of calm when he was caught up in potions. He liked knowing he was creating something useful and that the process, as well as the outcome, to an extent could be predicted. There was certainty in which ingredients and how they reacted together. There was certainty in how much time or heat would ruin a potion.

_If only life could be so simple..._

Draco glanced up after his last stir to see Luna pouring over Snape's notes next to him. He glanced at the potion again and suddenly felt really guilty for making her help him.

"If you've got other things to be doing—"

"I don't." Luna said, glancing up from the notes to give him a small smile and then returned her attention back to the notes.

Draco nodded. Silence stretched for a few beats before he cleared his throat, a thought occurring to him. He knew he couldn't keep this up. He wouldn't be able to continue at this rate, that eventually he would need a more efficient strategy to create enough Wolfsbane consistently.

He cleared his throat again and Luna glance up at him, tilting her head to the side, her wide eyes blinking.

"You want to ask me something." She stated simply. "Go on. I'll pretend I don't know that you're uncomfortable."

"Right." Draco nodded, running his hand through his hair in an attempt to displace some of his discomfort. He hated asking for help. He hated depending on people. He tried to think of a way it could benefit her as well, his father's teachings still engrained in him it would seem, the relentless negotiator to get what he wants

He eyed Snape's notes in her hands and got another idea.

"I was just thinking— um, since you're to be teach Defense Against the Dark Arts this term that maybe you'd want to review some of Snape's old lecture notes? He left me his belongings, and well," Draco swallowed and shrugged, "—I don't really know why he did, but you would probably get more out of his lecture notes than I would, and in return maybe you wouldn't mind helping me keep an eye on this potion—"

"Snape cared for you."

Draco's jaw snapped shut. He shook his head and blinked quickly, "Um—"

"He must have thought very highly of you to have given you his life's work."

"I, um—" Draco tried for a sentence, but failed. "Well— I, um, he—"

"I don't mind helping you, Draco." Luna said, saving him from stuttering even more, "—and I would love to be able to look over Snape's notes. I haven't a clue what I want to start the term off with for the new students, maybe his notes will help."

Draco frowned, "Classes begin in a week and you haven't got your first lesson planned?"

Luna just shrugged and hopped off her stool. "I was waiting for inspiration to strike." Luna glanced from the notes to the cauldron and then at Draco, "I think perhaps it just did."

"Well, um, that's— that's great." Draco glanced at the clock on the wall, he wondered if Kingsley was still waiting for him. "Thanks again."

Luna was already moving to look over the next stack of notes.

"I can take it from here I think." She said, eyeing the potion. "It needs to remain simmering for another three hours. I know you don't want to be here. You're just too polite to leave."

Draco let out a small laugh he couldn't prevent from escaping him at hearing her flat tone.

"You sure you don't mind?"

Luna shook her head.

"Alright then. I appreciate it, truly. I'll send over the rest of Snape's notes sometime tomorrow. You're staying at the castle?"

"Yes. Neville and I are staying in Hagrid's hut while he's on holiday in the Caribbean. They've discovered a new breed of magical turtles near Jamaica. McGonagall funded his trip and while he's away they asked us if we could take care of Fang and his other creatures in the Forrest. He sent us an Owl yesterday with a photograph of him in the ocean. He's really enjoying the time away, I think. "

Draco scrunched his nose in disgust at the mental image of Hagrid in a swim suit and forcefully shoved the sight away, and bid Luna a farewell, promising to Owl her tomorrow.

_!,i,!_  


Now that he was walking through the Minstry halls in the eerie after hours to meet Kingsley Shacklebolt about Merlin knew what, he could feel the anxious feeling bubbling inside him once more.

"Draco." Kingsley Shacklebolt motioned to the chair across from the large black desk in the Head Auror's office as he opened the door, "Please, have seat. Thank you for coming on such short notice."

Draco held his tongue as he strode into the dimly lit office, unbuttoning this coat as he made to sit in the stiff chair. He did not remind Kingsley that he did not have a choice in the matter, that the contract he was forced to sign forbid him from ignoring being summoned by the Head Auror if it pertained to aiding his department.

"What can I do for you, Kingsley?" He said instead, shifting in his seat to place one ankle over his knee.

Draco worked closely with the Head Auror over the last several months, pouring over cases and filling in blanks here and there. He found he was growing to respect the man, as he not once made Draco feel like a criminal, but an asset. He had even gone as far as ensuring that he have the chance to speak on his mother's behalf at her second hearing. Overall, Draco didn't hate him entirely like he did the rest of the Auror department.

"Right." Kingsley sighed as he sat behind his desk. "Straight to business then. I apologize for the hour, but I fear this matter couldn't wait."

"My mother. Have they—"

"No." Kingsley quickly denied. "No. Your mother's hearing is well prepared for, well, as much as we can be. This, I fear, has nothing to do with the Death Eater trials, and in fact, not entirely an 'official'meeting that will be in Ministry records. This visit is more of a personal favor for me."

Draco straightened in his seat and cleared his throat, "I see."

"I've summoned you, Draco, to inquire whether or not you would be interested in working undercover, specifically in liaison with the Auror and Unspeakable department."

"Undercover?" Draco repeated with a frown, trying not to sound as confused as he felt.

"Unofficially, off the record, but yes, undercover." Kingsley explained as he laced his fingers and laid them on top of his desk. "It has come to my attention that there may be those who are not satisfied with the reports that were submitted on the happenings of Kilchurn Castle."

Kingsley let his words hang in the air for a moment as he regarded Draco, as if he were trying to obtain information in the brisk silence. Draco willed his mind not to remain on any specific thought about Kilchurn, though he couldn't ignore the unsettled feeling churning in the pit of his stomach.

"You see, Draco." Kingsley continued. "I've kept your case very close and away from prying eyes. There are only a handful of those within the Ministry that are aware of the extent of your involvement in the war. To most, you remain the son of Lucius Malfoy, a weak boy who was forced to follow in his father's footsteps, but we both now that is far from the truth."

Draco dropped his gaze then. He could feel his palms sweating where they lay casually against his thighs.

"You said there are people looking into Kilchurn." Draco said eventually. "What for?"

"I think we both know the answer to that question." Kingsley said with a solemn expression. "The records state Kilchurn was one of Voldemort's bases, strictly used for housing Death Eaters and nothing more, and I for one, and adamant on keeping the truth concealed. The type of people who are interested in what really happened on that island are also the type of people who will abuse the magic that was discovered there, and if I've learned anything from the past months of having you assist with our efforts, I believe you, too, wish for it to remain concealed."

Draco said nothing as he stared at his clenched hands in his lap.

"I am also aware that you are responsible for many of the discoveries and break throughs..."

Draco's gaze snapped up to Kingsley's at that.

"Don't worry, you are not to be punished for your work. Quite the opposite. Among the small group I have entrusted with the truth of this is a team of two particularly brilliant minds in the Unspeakable Department, Thomas Fletch and Tiffany Lancaster, both of which are desperate to make your acquaintance.

"After they read the concealed reports, the reports that I only trusted to be viewed by very few, the reports that hold the truth of Kilchurn and show evidence of entire new species of beasts, traces of unknown powerful and unique potions found in the skeletons of said species, and so much more— after Tiffany and Thomas read the report it was all I could do to keep them from visiting you in your home. They are quite taken with your work, especially what you managed with the curse in both your mother and Hermione's veins. There is a department within the Unspeakable Department that dedicates its efforts to discovering new methods to heal blood curses, and what you accomplished with slowing the process was remarkable, considering how little knowledge, equipment and help you had access you had to."

Draco shook his head, unable to wrap his mind around what the man was telling him. He didn't want to think about the terrible things he created for Voldemort, or the lengths he had to go to in order to keep both his mother and Hermione alive.

"I don't understand. If you don't want people to know the truth for fear of replicating it, then why do you have people studying those reports? Why not just destroy it?"

"If we did that and another wizard comes along with a mind as innovative and brilliant as your own, who then creates something similar in stature, and we had a chance to discover a way to stop it but decided instead to just erase it from history, what do you think a wizard as evil and vindictive as Voldemort would do with a weapon like that? Or if one of the Death Eaters we have yet to catch, who is entirely aware of what Voldemort was doing at Kilchurn, and decides to give that information to the wrong person?" Kingsley asked rhetorically. "You have a chance to help us prevent that from happening, or at the very least prepare us in the chance that it does happen; and since you were apart of it's creation, we're asking you to help us understand what it would take to ensure it's destruction."

Draco didn't know what to say. The past three months he was forced to relive the tragedies of his past on repeat; at every trial, during every interrogation, in his nightmares where Voldemort's face would haunt him—

He wondered how, after everything he fought through, could Voldemort still seem to have a hold on him?

_**Because in the end, his greatest weapon was you...**_

Draco forced Dumbledore's words out of his mind, leaning forward and shutting his eyes tight. No! No! It was over. It was done. Voldemort is gone.

"You do not need to give me an answer tonight." Kingsley said patiently, moving from his seat towards the door. He opened it slowly. "Sleep on it. Let me know when you decide."

Draco didn't hesitate to shove out of his chair and out of the small office, as it had sudden felt entirely to claustrophobic and his palms were sweating and his lungs felt tight, as if they were being strangled—

"Mr. Malfoy." A voice interrupted the pounding pressure in his head, causing him to stop in his path to the Floo.

He turned to see a petit blond witch smiling up at him. She wore Ministry robes, but Draco was certain she shouldn't have been there at this time of night. He eyed the piece of parchment in her hand that he was extending to her.

"I'm Lana." She explained with a tiny giggle when Draco only blinked at her. "Intern for Kingsley's assistant."

"And?" Draco snapped. He was aware that he was being rude. He also cared very little at the moment. He glanced to the Floo, desperate to see Hermione, even if that meant returning to Grimmauld place and putting up with Potter. He would do it. Just to see her. Fuck— he really needed to see her right now.

The blond witch was still smiling up at him, "Annnnd, this memo came for you while you were in Kingsley office. The owl who brought it was rather impatient, pecked poor Mindy's fingertips until it drew a split of blood. That's where she went off to, to the loo to properly clean it up, so I suppose the message was rather important. Mindy told me to give it to you as soon as your were done, but you bolted out so quickly I didn't get the chance to—"

Draco took the parchment, and stepped past the witch, without a mumbled thanks that he would normally put effort into. Really, Draco had far much on his mind to be bothered with manners. His mother would disapprove, surely, but she wasn't around, so—

"For fuck's sake..." He groaned under his breath just as he stopped in front of the Floo. He re-read the memo in his hands and tried not to set himself on fire, knowing that he would have to prolong his torture of being away from Hermione a while longer.

_Draco,_

_It's Bill. He's had another episode. I know it's late, but please come as soon as you can. I'll leave the Floo open._

_x Fleur Delacour_

_!,i,!_  


_**Hogwarts: Desperate Enough to Hire a Criminal?**_

[_Should Parents be Concerned for Children's Safety? What is the New Headmistress Thinking?_]

_By the Daily Prophet's Gossip Correspondent, _

RITA SKEETER

_It appears that once one becomes a media socialite, one always desires to remain a media socialite. Some people can not keep from ensuring their lives are news worthy. This can be true to describe none other than Narcissa Malfoy, the same witch whose name has been in the last several publications of the Daily Prophet and the topic of every headline in societal magazines; the very same witch who still awaits an official date for her second hearing for her involvements in aiding Lord Voldemort. _

_This fact appears to not have fazed our beloved War Heroine and newly appointed Head Mistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall. Though, we cannot fault her entirely for this slight misjudgment of character without considering who she must have learned this tendency from. Yes, you guessed it, Albus Dumbledore. It begs the question if the new Headmistress is truly the best woman for the job if she intends to continue stepping in the man's footsteps and making similar mistakes to his own. To explore and read more about all of the unqualified teachers brought on by the ringleader of questionable lessons himself, you can purchase my best seller published just last year: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore..._

_!,i,!_  


"Poor Narcissa. If it's not Harry or one of my children, it's her." Molly Weasley sighed as she folded the paper and placed it onto the dinning room table. "That Rita Skeeter has no tact."

Hermione lifted a brow at Harry, as if to say 'see, told you so', and then stabbed her fork into a carrot on her plate.

She and Harry both decided to have lunch at the Weasley's again, knowing Ron was returning for a few hours from Auror training. Neither of them had seen Ron in weeks and both missed him dearly. He had yet to arrive and as Hermione and Harry finished up their lunch with Mrs. Weasley they both looked a little worse for ware. Molly was gracious enough not to mention it, for once.

Hermione and Harry moved into the living room while Molly washed up and sorted the kitchen, refusing either of their help and claiming she was just grateful for the visit as it was much too quiet in her house these days, with Ginny joining to Holyhead Harpies for the summer in preparation for joining them for real after finishing her last year and Fred and George practically living at the joke shop, and Ron at Auror training— overall, Molly was in desperate need of company, and Harry and Hermione were glad to provide it for her as they waited for Ron.

Hermione didn't mention it and neither did Harry, but they were both thinking the same thing as they sat in front of the fire in the Weasley's living room: Draco and Theo were both disappearing far too often for it to be a coincidence.

Although Hermione tried to remind herself that Draco didn't have a choice in the matter with helping the Ministry, it didn't make up for the fact that he hadn't returned last night after his meeting with Kingsley. All she received was what appeared to be a very rushed last minute excuse on the back of a Ministry pamphlet.

_Sorry— can't make it back tonight. _

_Something came up. I'll make it up to you later._

_xDLM_

"I've just received an owl from Ronald." Molly bellowed from the kitchen. "He'll be along shortly. Got caught up at the station. Would you two care for some more ice-cream?"

Harry shook his head.

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione called back, "We're fine."

"Alright dear! Let me know if you change your mind! I'll be right up stairs!"

"We will!" They both called back.

When it became apparent that Harry wasn't in the moon to talk, since he was ominously staring into the fireplace, watching the flames swirl and spark, Hermione pulled her bag across her lap and pulled out her notebook and a muggle pencil. After several minutes of uninterrupted silence, Hermione had successfully edited four pages of her revised _Hogwarts: A History_ (extended and revised edition).

"Do you think they might be together?"

Hermione glanced up from her notebook to see Harry starring at her, his right leg bouncing nervously.

"Draco and Theo you mean?"

He nodded.

Hermione sighed, "They do seem to go missing at similar intervals, don't they?"

"What if somethings wrong? That whatever the Ministry has Draco doing, he's pulled Theo into it somehow? And he won't tell me because he's afraid he'll get Draco in trouble or something? What if it's dangerous? He would let me know if he was in dang—"

"Whoa, slow down, Harry." Hermione said, miming taking a deep breath. "In, out, come on now."

Harry rolled his eyes, but copied her, taking an exaggerated breath in and out.

"Better?" She asked.

Harry shrugged. "No."

"Me neither." She sighed again. "But I'm sure whatever they're up to it's nothing serious, Harry. You just suspect there is because—"

"It's almost always true?"

"It used to be." She corrected. "It's not anymore."

"Just because Voldemort's gone doesn't mean ever other evil thing out there is too."

"I know." Hermione said, but she found she really didn't have anything to add. She was just as worried as Harry was. "Maybe we could talk to Kingsley? Just because Draco was sworn to not discuss it doesn't mean we can't go straight to the source."

Before Harry could comment on this suggestion the door behind her flung open and Ron shoved through the door with Fred and George bounding in behind him.

"Oi—" Ron whined, ducking another shoulder from his brothers. "There's plenty of room for all of us to walk, shove over would you?" Ron glanced up then to see Hermione and Harry watching him. "Harry! 'Mione! Boy am I glad to see you two!"

He hurried over to pull them both into a quick embrace. Fred and George echoed their hellos and moved into the kitchen to dive into the lunch Molly prepared for them.

"How long have you two been waiting? Not long I hope?"

Hermione shook her head, "Only about an hour, but never mind that. We want to hear all about training. Tell us everything."

"Is it it safe to assume from the goofy grin on your face that it's been everything you hoped for and more?" Harry teased, noticing Ron's eyes begin to grow as they often did when he was particularly happy.

"Is it ever?" Ron exclaimed. "It's brilliant. Bloody hard work, but worth it. Definitely worth it! Have you two already ate?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at his look of indignation. "Yes, but we'll join you so you can keep telling us all about it."

Hermione nudged Harry with her shoulder as they followed a very enthusiastic Ron, who continued to explain in extensive detail of his experiences thus far, into the kitchen. Harry smiled over at her and they both let their pervious worries slide away to fit back into the comfort of the three of them being together again.

After about two hours of Ron talking non stop and the conversation shifted from Auror training to Qudditch, Hermione politely ignored them to return back to her revising of notes.

"Oi— 'Mione. I thought you and Harry don't start classes for another week. What's with the homework?" Ron asked, pausing in his explanation of some difficult flying technique or another.

"She's crafting a new edition of _Hogwarts: a History._" Harry said, grinning behind his glass of water as Ron's jaw promptly dropped open.

"You're joking." Ron whined, looking rather flabbergasted, despite knowing Hermione Granger for the better half of his life. "Please, tell me he's joking."

When Hermione simply lifted her chin, ignoring both Fred and George's sniggering beside her Ron gaped at her still.

"You're crazy."

"I most certainly am not crazy, Ronald. I just happen to think the events of the final battle and events leading up to it were extremely important and part of the schools history. It deserves to be properly documented. If not, who else is going to be responsible for accurately recording history? Should we just leave the future generations of students to refer to out-dated texts and the likes of gossip from Rita Skeeter?"

"Ahhhh..." Fred chimed in. "So that's what this is really about. Rita Skeeter..."

"Did you lot hear?" George added, "According to Skeeter, me and Freddie here are on the Wizarding World's list for most wealthily eligible bachelors. She's taken it upon herself to get the world out there for us—

"—Weasleys Wizard Wheezes had never had so many mischievous woman stopping by before!" Fred said with a wink.

"Are you sure that has nothing to do with the new product you've been bragging about in your letters?" Ron asked. "The one that's meant to help babies from crying through the night?"

Harry and Hermione shared a look, then Harry turned to the twins. "You two are selling toys for toddlers now?"

"Well, it's still not been announced—" George shot Ron a pointed look, "—but I figured the two of you would have heard about it from Theo, or Remus at the very least, seeing as he and Teddy are living with you both."

"Theo?" Harry repeated, as Hermione asked, "Why would Theo and Remus know anything about your new secret product before us?"

"Well, they invented it of course." Fred said, laughing at their bemused expressions.

"Well, mostly it was Theo's concept. Remus designed the charms for it." George corrected. "It's brilliant. Guaranteed satisfaction from 100 percent of our test subjects."

Fred nodded excitedly, "Yeah. We haven't had reviews on a product that good sense—"

"Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs!" They said together.

"So let me get this straight." Harry said slowly, placing his hands out in front of him. "Theo invented a toy that helps toddlers fall asleep and Remus helped and they both brought the idea to you two as like— a secondary partnership or something?"

"More or less." George said, bobbing his head back and forth. "They really didn't want any profit, but Theo had about a room full of prototypes he needed to get rid of so we took them off his hands and if all goes to plan, they'll receive ten percent of the profit of each sale. Apparently, Theo's inspiration for the _Tiny-Tearless- Toddler-Tinkers_ came to him one night because he said he couldn't get any sleep with Teddy crying so loud down the hall."

Fred shot Harry a wink, "—not the only reason Theo's not getting any sleep is it Harry my boy?"

Hermione just blinked at the twins for several moments, still attempting to imagine Theo inventing a toddler's toy.

"Hey—" Ron frowned at his brothers, "How come you take Nott's idea and run with it, but when I tried with the dandy sock drying rack you told me to bugger off?"

"Because Theo's ideas are consistently brilliant—" Fred answered.

"And your ideas are consistently terrible." George shuddered.

"Not to mention you're the only person who sweats enough to need to have an entire rack for drying their socks." Fred teased.

"Yeah, well, who wants to work at a bloody joke shop anyway." Ron grumbled.

Hermione glanced over to see Harry laughing quietly to himself as the three brothers continued to bicker back and forth.

"What is it?" She asked.

"I think I may have been a tad bit paranoid before." Harry said with a smirk. "If whatever Theo's been up to is half as dangerous as working with Fred and George to invent a children's toy then I think I can mange him wanting to keep it a secret."

"So— er— you two— um—" Ron shifted uncomfortably next to Harry, glancing at Hermione and then down at his plate again, "—you and Nott that is— still going swell and everything?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "— going swell and everything? Honestly Ronald?"

Ron just shrugged, "I'm trying to be supportive."

"You look a bit constipated." George noted.

"Very constipated." Fred agreed.

Hermione shook her head as Harry laughed. Harry told Ron about him and Theo after the battle, but since he wasn't around often it was obvious that he wasn't completely used to the idea.

"It's alright 'Mione." Harry said then and turned to Ron. "We're swell, Ron. Thanks for asking."

Ron smiled then. "Good. Glad for you mate."

"Thanks."

"But if that Slytherin git pulls anything I swear—"

Harry patted the back of Ron's hand. "I know. I know you would, Ron. I'll pass along the message."

Hermione wondered if the fact that Harry was now dating another boy or the fact that said boy happened to be a Slytherin was more of a shock to Ron. She imagined it was the later, seeing as he refused to make any comment to her relationship with Draco, which was better than arguing about it, so Hermione didn't push it.

The conversation continued on like this, with light banter from the twins teasing Ron for Rita Skeets's article about him and the other Auror in his division, Alice Dearborn, and Ron blushing and denying anything of the sort.

Eventually the twins left and then it was just the three of them sitting on the balcony on the top floor of the Weasley home. They watched the sunset together, joking and laughing about everything they've missed over the past few months and reminiscing on their younger days.

It was so effortless for Hermione to slip into the comfort of her two best friends. As she sat between them watching the colors in the sky fade from blue to different hues of pinks and oranges, she felt utterly content, and any worry she had concerning Rita Skeeter or MIA boyfriends, slowly creeped into the back of her mind to be examined another day.

_**!,i,!**_

**A/N**: Any guesses on what our boys are up to? I hope you guys enjoy this update as much as the last one! Keep reviewing to let me know what you'd like to see more of. I've got the chapter overall ideas mapped out but haven't filled in anything specific so there's always room for giving you guys more fluff or plot or whatever you prefer!


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